The Patakis
by OldBetsy
Summary: The Spin off that almost made it, as under the direction of several FF.net authors
1. Olga Moves Out

"Dear Arnold,  
  
It's been a while since I saw you and your stupid football-shaped head last. Can't say I miss it too much, but all the kids here could still sure use your goody-goody advice. Heck, you might even say I wouldn't mind it anymore. Don't get any big ideas, bucko.  
  
Big Bob and Miriam still argue about Olga's 'new' career choice. I told you about that before, right? She wants to be a Broadway actress now. So much for teaching, huh? Sure, she hasn't landed any parts, probably irritates all the directors. HAH!  
  
And don't start going on about how special sibling relationships are supposed to be either. You."  
  
  
  
Helga paused in writing her letter as soon as the loud bell rang, marking the ending of the day's final period. She had English Literature for her last period this year as a sophomore, and the teacher had given them ten minutes to work on their homework since the day's lesson plan had finished sooner than expected. Helga doubted any of them were actually doing the homework.well, besides her long time best friend, Phoebe. She only stared momentarily at the shrilling bell with one half of her unibrow raised, and then began to collect her things after it finished. Most of the students were leaving the room by the time she stood, prattling away about weekend plans. It was a Friday.  
  
"Do you have any plans scheduled for this weekend, Helga?" Phoebe asked, her face the usual pleasant expression.  
  
Helga's was the opposite and she snorted softly. "Yeah, see how many times I can snatch the TV remote from Big Bob, avoid Miriam, and ignore Olga." Helga was prone to call her parents by their first names.she never considered them much of parents at all.  
  
They continued chatting as they strolled into the hallway, pressing through the throng of excited students rushing to leave as soon as possible. "Well, I've heard of an exceedingly invigorating and educational cinematic thriller about."  
  
"No thanks, Pheebs. I'm not in the mood for movies this week." She sighed, strolling down the curving steps of the old, musty high school.  
  
Phoebe hugged her books to her chest, wishing her friend would be more social. "I'll call you later in the evening, is that all right?"  
  
"Sounds good. Bye, Pheebs." With that, she turned to her locker, spinning the combination and grabbing her things to pack up. Phoebe stood there momentarily, wondering if she should try and suggest Helga come out this weekend. Still she knew it was futile at this point in time and started off down the thinning out hallways to her own locker by the computer room. Specially requested, of course.  
  
Helga finished putting her few books away for the homework she hadn't done in study hall when Stinky, Sid, and Harold came by. "Hey, Helga." Harold said in a singsong voice purposely used to taunt her.  
  
"What is it, pink boy?" She snapped, slinging the bag over her shoulder and spinning to face him. She called him that since his skin seemed more tinged pink than most. He was overweight, though muscled, with a wide nose to match his belly.  
  
Stinky stepped in before the conversation turned into a growling match, towering over the two with his height, as thin as a pencil. "We just wanted to ask if you were gonna join the stickball game come Sunday on account of you usually do." He drawled in his thick southern accent.  
  
"Yeah." Sid added on, jutting his thumb over his shoulder at an approaching figure. "Seeing as Eugene's out since he kind of broke his leg after that incident with the Jolly Olly Man after the football game last week."  
  
Eugene hobbled by on his crutch saying a chipper, "I'm okay! Really, guys! I'm sure I can still make it," only to be accidentally smacked in the head by a wayward football someone was tossing in the hallway. He fell over, a meek "I'm okay." trailing into the air while some kids came running near him to retrieve the ball.  
  
Sid turned back to Helga. "As I said, he can't make it."  
  
Harold laughed. "I'm sure Helga has too many girly things to do, like paint her nails or read sappy romance novels," he cackled, wiggling his fingers. He loved to taunt Helga on occasion, like some small, infrequent hobby. Of course this was easy for him, considering he was four years older than the entire rest of the class.  
  
She glared at him for a moment, and then turned back to the other two. "I'll think about it. Just don't get your hopes up." And with that, she strolled out.  
  
They watched her go, and then Sid turned to Harold. "Maybe you shouldn't tease her so much, Harold."  
  
He smirked, leaning into the shorter boy's face. "Why.do you like her?"  
  
"No." Stinky answered for him. "It's just on account of that she scares us." Sid nodded in agreement.  
  
  
  
The door clicked shut behind her and Helga came inside, calling out, "I'm home!" though she doubted anyone particularly cared. The place was quiet, the television barely audible from the front room. As Helga went up the stairs, she peered in to see Big Bob with his feet propped up, most likely waiting to see his new beeper commercial air. Miriam was asleep at his side, a sweatband still around her forehead from her earlier aerobic exercises.  
  
Olga was nowhere in sight. Helga took the opportunity to disappear upstairs. As she came up to her bedroom door, she noted light streaming out from under Olga's door. "I guess she's home after all." she muttered to herself, striding into her own room with a soft snort.  
  
To Helga, her room was like a safe-haven from the big, blowhard beeper salesmen, yoga fanatics, and actress wannabes that made up her family. No one, it seemed, was the picture of 'normal', Helga herself included. She shut the door quickly, and flipped the light switch. Bright, yellow light flooded the room as she briskly walked to the closet. One might wonder why she was headed to her closet in such a hurry, but it wasn't just any closet.  
  
Opening the door, at first glance it did seem normal after all, packed with clothes of several shades, most of which were never worn. But Helga pushed it all aside, revealing a large walk-in space. Bookshelves were on both sides of the wall, filled with pink books. She sighed, and picked up a book near the bottom of a shelf on her right. Almost like choreography, she pulled out pen and opened the book to the first empty page. She reached into her shirt to pull out a golden locket with a photograph of a smiling boy inside; it was a few years old. Helga smiled back at a face she hadn't seen in so long.  
  
She looked over the edge of it to a small clay statue with very similar features to the boy in the picture. He had a football-shaped head and flaxen hair that stuck up in opposite directions, though it was still quite neat. A single, small, blue cap sat just so between the locks of hair. She had molded and painted the statue herself. The entire back of the closet was adorned with items of his, including a framed set of his briefs.  
  
Sighing softly, she thought back. Arnold had moved away nearly six years ago, not long after he had reunited with his parents.  
  
Then they moved away.  
  
This in mind, she clicked the back of the pen and the tip poked out. Then the purple pen danced across the page in rhyming motions she was so used to.  
  
"My love was a crimson rose," She spoke as she wrote. My sweetest sorrow, my sunshine bright The morning dew, like well spent tears, Drops from so many of my empty years Lay down on him, reflecting the morning light All my dreams were for my crimson rose. How I wanted him to be forever! But not all dreams come true, Like my dreams of myself and you, The ones I now know, happening never. For the winter did oppose To our love; I thought it to never cease. The winter's winds did freeze My love, it brought me to my knees Then it stole away my crimson rose."  
  
She paused, re-reading the last few lines, blinking. Grinning, she murmured, "Well, that's a keeper!"  
  
  
  
Some time later, Helga left the sanctity of her room in curiosity of what dinner would be.  
  
"Oh! Baby sister!" Olga chirped as Helga walked down the stairs. Helga noted that she lacked a bit of her usual perk, but she wasn't one to complain. Olga set plates down gently on the dinner table, setting four places for dinner. "Now Helga, be kind this evening. Mummy worked really hard over dinner."  
  
"Miriam? Cook dinner?!" Helga asked as she came into the kitchen. "This I've got to see!" She pulled out a chair, spun it around, and sat backwards in it. She looked down at the plates, which to her surprise weren't plastic or Styrofoam. "Wait, like a REAL dinner?"  
  
"She got it out of her new 'Health and Wellness' magazine."  
  
Helga raised one half of her monobrow with disgust. "So is it safe to assume tofu?"  
  
"Oh hush," her sister replied good-naturedly, "You just might like it." Olga sat across from her, the room falling silent. Even when Big Bob came in, no words were exchanged and Helga raised half of her brow in curiosity. Big Bob not saying something to his golden child.Olga, that is. It seemed as if all that night had been silent.  
  
Miriam came in with the dinner, setting it down and taking her seat just as quietly as had the rest of the Pataki family.  
  
She also noticed throughout the course of the next few minutes Miriam kept casting glances at Bob, which were returned with a disgruntled look. Olga on the other hand seemed either oblivious to the angered air, or was just keeping her distance from the subject. But this wasn't doing any good, so Helga decided to try and start up some conversation.  
  
"So...get a part in any big plays yet Olga?" she started, but stopped when she heard a noise from Bob. Wrong choice of words.  
  
"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" Big Bob shouted, slamming a hand on the table.  
  
Miriam placed a hand on her husband's sleeve in a futile attempt to calm him. "B-now calm down.can't we just."  
  
"You just HAD to bring it up didn't you little missy!" He accused pointing at Helga directly.  
  
"What? All I was doing was trying to break the ice." she muttered and put her fork down and looked to Olga, who looked ready to cry as it was.  
  
"Daddy, really...please. Don't do this at the dinner table."  
  
It was too late, Big Bob started to rant about what had apparently been an earlier argument. "Acting, for Pete's sake! You have to do acting. First it's 'going to drop out of school and marry' Now this? Just how badly do you want to screw up your life huh?" Helga watched in dimmed amusement as the vein over his left eye started to throb.  
  
"Olga, sweetie, please don't do this, acting.it.it's not a sure thing honey. It's not going to work, you're capable of so much more than that." Miriam chimed in putting her glass down.  
  
"Of course...little miss perfect..." Helga muttered and ignored the icy look she received from Bob.  
  
"Daddy, Mummy, I can do this. Really, I can! I've thought it through for a long time now.!"  
  
"What? A few days?" Bob snorted.  
  
"No, for a couple months now. I know of this production going on in a while, I can do this! Just give it a chance, please daddy? Please?"  
  
"You're ruining your life Olga...don't do this." Miriam repeated.  
  
"Oh get a new line, Mom." Helga muttered and was cut off by Bob.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey! Either shut your mouth now, little missy, or get out of the room. Do you hear me?"  
  
"Hey, don't yell at me, I'm the good child as of now." She shot back and folded her arms over her chest glaring at him and heard Olga sniffle slightly.  
  
"I could just do as well as you do. I can do this! I could get my own place, I could.I could make a life for myself away from here! I really could!" Olga said as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.  
  
Bob threw down his fork with a clatter but Helga was stuck on those last few words. "You know what Olga? I bet you could too. I mean, you're 27, smart, pretty. I'm very sure you could get yourself a great job as an actress, and a great place to live. Really show 'em what you're made of!!" Helga said with fake enthusiasm.  
  
Great! A chance to get her out of the house, and out of my hair! She thought, smirking slightly.  
  
"You think so baby sis?" came a very squeaky Olga who was already stifling a new flow of tears.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"GIVE IT UP WOULD YOU OLGA?! I WON'T HAVE ANY DAUGHTER OF MINE GOING OUT FOR SOMETHING AS...AS FOOLHEARTY AS ACTING!!!" He bellowed and knocked over his glass, sending it shattering to the ground. This caused Miriam to gasp, and Olga to let out a huge sob. She then ran from the room after crying out, "Why don't you understand? It's my dream daddy.my dream!"  
  
Helga just looked after her silently then back to Bob who was glaring icy darts at her and Miriam who sitting down shaking her head. "Great."  
  
  
  
Helga knocked on the door and gently turned the knob, revealing a sobbing Olga laying face down on her bed. "I don't understand how they can make you so upset," Helga sighed. "I mean, just look at yourself. Crying over a little argument. If I cried every time I fought with Bob, I would have had major wrinkles by the age of nine. If I were you, well first I'd wipe the mascara dripping down my face, but then I would move out. Immediately. I've never let Bob walk all over me like he did to you a while ago."  
  
"Really?" Olga sniffed.  
  
Helga snorted and said, "No! If he tells me I can't do something I want to do, then I do it anyway just to prove him wrong."  
  
"But I'm not as strong as you baby sister," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.  
  
"True," Helga nodded, "but they'll love you no matter what you do. You're their pride and joy, their golden child! So stop being so darn sensitive and whiny and take control of your own life!"  
  
Olga thought to herself, still sniffling a little, and then nodded too. "You know what? You're right. I can move out and I can be an actress. And sooner or later, they will come around."  
  
"Why not get a head start and make it right now," Helga agreed eagerly. "Heck, I'll even help you pack!"  
  
"Oh thank you so much Helga!" she squealed. "What would I do without you baby sister?" Olga flew off the bed with arms wide open and headed straight for Helga.  
  
Frightened, Helga backed up until she was up against the door. "Uh, Olga, there's really no need for-" she was saying, but was crushed into a hug.  
  
"And no matter what they think about me, I know you'll always be standing behind me."  
  
"Right, uh yeah sure," she said quickly, attempting to escape the arms of her sister.  
  
Olga let her go and walked over to her big dresser that contained all her clothes. Sighing with relief, Helga straightened out her shirt which Olga had wrinkled with the hug.  
  
"I wonder what I'll need to take," she said and opened the doors. Olga stood with her hands on her hips, trying to decide. "Hmm."  
  
  
  
Five minutes later.  
  
  
  
"Olga!" Helga growled with impatience and shoved her out of the way. "Tell you what, you look for a place and I'll pack for you, okay??"  
  
"Great plan baby sister!" she said with excitement. Olga picked up the newspaper laying on her nightstand and turned to the section with rooms for rent. While she was looking, she sat down on her bed and started humming to herself.  
  
Helga popped her knuckles and started pulling random clothes from their hangers. The humming continued and Helga tried to ignore it, but it was getting louder by the minute. After Helga had pulled all of the clothes from the wardrobe, she folded them up and placed them on the bed next to Olga. Cringing from the high pitched hum, Helga bent down and pulled out two suitcases from under the bed.  
  
"Hmm humm hmm huuummm!"  
  
"Olga, could you please not do that!" Helga snapped.  
  
"Oh I'm so sorry," she said. "I hum when I'm excited." Still smiling cheerfully, she went back to searching through the ads.  
  
"Well it's annoying," Helga rolled her eyes, putting the folded clothes into one of the suitcases. Suddenly, it occurred to her that Olga was moving out. Out of the house, out of her hair, and out of her life. Well, not completely out of her life, but good enough. A smile spread across Helga's face and she herself started humming the same song that Olga had been. "I'll be back," Helga smiled cheerfully. "I've got to find some boxes to pack your other things."  
  
Time passed as Olga idly flipped through the newspaper, calling a few places here and there. Finally, Olga gave an excited squeal, running from the room for the phone again. Helga rolled her eyes, half of Olga's more essential stuff packed up already.  
  
While she was gone, Helga grabbed the radio and practically tore the plug out of the wall. Olga had been singing.or trying to sing, to most of the songs that had been played and she was sick of it.  
  
Olga came back after a minute, clapping her hands. "Baby sister! Great news! I found a place and I can move in tomorrow!"  
  
"That's great, Olga!" Helga said, more enthusiastic over the fact Olga was leaving then being enthusiastic with her.  
  
Her older sister suddenly yanked her into a bear hug again and she stiffened. "Oh, baby sister! I'm going to miss you so much!"  
  
Helga shoved her away. "Oh, for Pete's sake! I."  
  
"Hey.what happened to my radio?"  
  
  
  
Olga's periwinkle blue car with the tiny flowers printed on it pulled up on an old, familiar street. Helga darted her eyes about, praying Olga was just passing through. She held two boxes in her lap, and several stuffed boxes were in the back seat and trunk, barely tied down.  
  
Adrenaline began to pump through her veins as Olga slowed.  
  
Oh please, oh please not there.  
  
Sure enough, Olga stopped. Helga hopped out of the car, leaving one of the boxes in the seat as she carried the other.  
  
Helga stared up at the aged brick boarding house, reading the sign that said "Sunset Arms" as if it would miraculously change. She spun to her sister, her face ashen.  
  
"Here, Olga?"  
  
"It has a.chíc sort of early Industrial America look, doesn't it baby sister?"  
  
"But.but Olga! It's old.and moldy.and falling apart! Can't you find a nicer place? You know anywhere but this place?"  
  
"Oh, nonsense baby sister! It seems nice enough to me, just needs a little touching up here and there. Besides, the owner is letting me move in right away! They don't often do that, you know. Now, it's so sweet of you to care, but this place is just perfect!" She pinched her little sister's cheek, prancing up the steps, oblivious of her little sister's horror.  
  
As Olga reached the door, Helga slid back into the car, hiding behind the boxes. She yanked out her locket and stared at the image of her beloved, Arnold, and his odd football-shaped head. "Oh, Arnold! Of all places, Olga had to pick here?!" She held the locket to her chest in worry. Arnold had once lived in that boarding house.and some time after he had moved, Helga had started to help out at the place. His grandparents took quite a liking to her.  
  
Suddenly, a terrified thought came to mind.  
  
What if.  
  
Olga got Arnold's old room?  
  
  
  
Helga's eyes widened. In her mind's eye, she saw Olga, bustling around a room, adding homey touches here and there. Olga removed an alarm clock from the nightstand and replaced it with a porcelain ballerina before flitting across the pink carpeting to place the clock in a cardboard box with other items she didn't have any use for. The clock, a homemade potato clock with a small Arnold figure on top, found its new home between a stack of Purdy Boys' mysteries and a pile of red plaid shirts. All lay near piles of things to be given to the poor and needy. Olga turned to what used to be a computer desk and adorned the surface with an array of doilies.  
  
Ceramic knick-knacks and wicker baskets of various sizes filled the shelves. The walls were adorned with photos of Olga - Olga receiving her degree from Bennington College, Olga performing her role in the school production of "Rats," Olga on stage playing the piano. The room no longer resembled the boyhood haunt of Helga's lifelong obsession except for the elaborate stereo system against the wall.  
  
Olga cocked her head to one side, evaluating the placement of the filmy curtains over the bookcase. Music from The Nutcracker Suite filtered through the speakers as she smoothed floral patterned sheets on the bed. She reached into her purse, pulled out a small picture frame engraved with "My Little Sis," and set it next to the ballerina.  
  
Sunlight shone through the skylight, creating a halo around Olga's head as she clasped her hands together, squealing with delight as she surveyed the room.  
  
Helga screamed.  
  
  
  
Olga gently knocked on the old weathered door, leaving at her feet a simple suitcase packed sparsely with odd belongings. As she heard heavy footsteps approaching the door, she stepped back and prepared for the introductory encounter, picking up her suitcase and straightening her collar. Then, the door opened.  
  
"Hey Miss, you're lucky I was nearby. You'll never get a rise outta nobody if you knock like that." Olga looked down to see Ernie Potts standing at the door, with a sledgehammer slung over his shoulder. "Now, if you would excuse me."  
  
Olga, realizing that she was in Ernie's way, quickly stepped to the side to allow him passage. "Oh, I'm sorry about that sir, but would it be too much trouble to ask an itsy bitsy question before you get on your way?" Olga asked, before realizing what she said and covering her mouth. "Oh, I am so sorry."  
  
Ernie chucked. "Heh, no offense taken, just as long as this question of yours is quick. I have to be at a very important demolition site in 10, and it'll take 15 by foot, so I gotta run," Ernie said, setting the sledgehammer on the ground while he waited.  
  
Olga flinched as the sledgehammer came close to her as he lowered it. "Would you be able to point me in the direction of the landlord's offices? You see, I'm interested in renting a room after my parents suggested." Olga began, leaning against the doorframe on the porch of Sunset Arms.  
  
"Hey, Miss, I have no time for life stories here," Ernie interrupted, waving his hand at Olga. "Anyway, the person you're lookin' for is Gramps.er, ol' Phil in there. And I don't think you want to meet with him in the bathroom, I'll tell you that much," Ernie chuckled, swinging his sledgehammer back over his shoulder and strolling off.  
  
"Excuse me?" Olga responded, looking back into the house as she heard a toilet flush. She stepped inside to see Grandpa casually walking down the stairs. "Oh, hello, you must be the landlord," Olga said pleasantly, extending a hand to Grandpa.  
  
Grandpa looked at Olga's hand before shaking it. "Dunno. It depends on who I'm talking to," Grandpa said, flatly. Olga drew her hand back in and looked at Grandpa dubiously. "You wouldn't happen to be from the department of mental health, would ya?" Grandpa asked, eyeing Olga sharply from the corner of his eye.  
  
With this revelation, Olga laughed uncertainly. "Oh, of course not, sir. I'm Olga Pataki," she said, looking into Grandpa's eyes as if trying to help him along.  
  
"Oh, so that's who you are! Olga Pataki, why yes.that name's not registering with me," Grandpa finally admitted.  
  
Olga sighed, smiled absently, and explained, "The Olga Pataki who called concerning the room you had for rent."  
  
Grandpa then snapped. "Oh, so you're interested in renting a room, eh?" Grandpa said, placing his hands behind his back. "Well, of course there's the necessary paperwork to be done concerning your rental, but first, it's imperative to go over the Sunset Arms rules," Grandpa said, pacing in the opening hallway of the house.  
  
"Oh, but of course," Olga nodded, giggling nervously.  
  
"Number one.no kids allowed. No kids, right?" Grandpa asked.  
  
Olga relaxed a little, and began to giggle and shake her head. "No, of course not."  
  
Grandpa nodded. "Didn't think so. Okay, now that we are over the rules, I guess I'll show you around the place, show you where things are, and.you are planning on actually renting, right? Not one of those pesky lookers that only look and then decide later?" Grandpa asked again, glaring at Olga critically.  
  
"Well, sir, I think I made clear when I called you." Olga began, slightly on the defensive.  
  
"A simple yes was all I needed," Grandpa said, passing through the hallway and stopping at the kitchen. Olga, still grasping her suitcase tightly in her hands, followed Grandpa, who was stepping quickly through the house. They reached the kitchen, where Mr. Hyunh and Oskar and Susie Kokoshka were sitting at the table, eating the lunch that Grandma had recently fixed. Although Oskar was in the company of his wife, upon the entrance of Olga to the kitchen he directed all of his attention. Mr. Hyunh also looked up from his plate, though slightly uninterested. "I suppose since we are on the ground level now, we can start from the bottom up," Grandpa continued in his tour.  
  
Oskar nodded, as he stared at Olga. "Are we taking the pretty young lady on a tour, Grandpa, because I'd be glad to help, heh heh." he laughed, not noticing Susie taking offense at his admiration of Olga. "Oskar!" she exclaimed, glaring at him harshly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"So anyway," Grandpa continued, rolling his eyes at the couple, "this is the community kitchen. We serve all of our boarders three meals a day, as cooked by my wife over there," Grandpa guided flatly, as Grandma nodded from the other side of the kitchen where she was dressed as a Spanish Flamenco dancer.  
  
"Olé!" she exclaimed, tossing her hand in the air. Olga, amused by Grandma's antics, smiled and waved at her.  
  
"And, if you are so inclined, you may also used the kitchen to cook your own meals," Grandpa said, as he was prepared to continue throughout the boarding house.  
  
Olga, however, continued through the kitchen, with her suitcase still in her hands, and glanced at the furnishing. "Would it be at all possible for me to take your wife's place sometimes and cook a few meals for the rest of the boarders?" Olga asked, as Grandma began to stomp her own version of the Flamenco out of the kitchen and into the hallway. "Because cooking is one of my absolute favorite things in the world, and I don't know what I'd do if I wasn't able to." Olga began, smiling dreamily as she looked into the cabinets.  
  
Grandpa reentered the kitchen to see what Olga was talking about. "Well, I'll see if that can't be arranged.although I'd say it's the first time someone else has ever volunteered to cook," he shrugged.  
  
Mr. Hyunh finally spoke up after remaining silent since Olga's entrance. "Well, I think it will be.an improvement! After so many years.of Grandma's cooking, I don't know how.much.more I can stand!" he exclaimed, finally getting up from the table after eating a heaping plate of whatever it was Grandma cooked for lunch.  
  
After finishing his own lunch, Oskar made an observation. "Oh look, the pretty young lady is probably tired of carrying that suitcase all this time. Ms. Pretty Young Lady, can I carry this to your room for you? Hehehe," Oskar volunteered, bowing his head earnestly and chuckling.  
  
Olga, truly flattered yet again, held her hand to her chest. "Why thank you, that's so kind and considerate of you," Olga said, giving her suitcase to Oskar.  
  
Susie mumbled under her breath, "Yeah, he's considerate alright," before sitting back in her chair and sipping on a Yahoo.  
  
Grandpa snapped as Oskar reminded him of something. "Oh yeah, now that you mention it Kokoshka, I forgot! Ms. Pataki, do you have any more belongings that need to be brought up to your room?" Grandpa asked.  
  
Olga, who forgot herself, nodded. "Oh yes, I completely forgot! Oh, I'm such a silly! I have about two trunks and three more suitcases full of various necessities in my car parked out front," Olga remembered, looking towards the door of the boardinghouse.  
  
"Well, Kokoshka, since you're already in the helping mood, I guess you and Hyunh here won't mind carrying the lady's things to her room," Grandpa volunteered them, as Mr. Hyunh sluggishly complied through groaning. Susie snickered as she watched Oskar sulk at the suggestion of more work.  
  
Olga watched as the two men walked lethargically towards her car. "It's the baby blue car with the flowers painted on, you can't miss it!" she yelled as they walked out of the door.  
  
Grandpa watched the two until they were both out of the door. "Well, Ms. Pataki, I suppose I'll be showing you around the rest of the premises now, unless by now you've changed your mind about this place," Grandpa said quickly and under his breath.  
  
Olga followed Grandpa back into the hallway and up the stairs. "Oh, of course I haven't changed my mind, sir. I just love this place. Although the place is a little worn at the edges, its got definite potential," Olga said absently, as she smoothed her hands over the woodwork on the staircase. "It's got some type of eclectic flair to it that makes it worthy of the.antique feel," Olga analyzed.  
  
Grandpa nodded. "Yeah, sure. So anyway, this is the community restroom." Grandpa began. But, before he could finish, he was again interrupted by one of the boarders, this time by Mr. Simmons, who was exiting the bathroom.  
  
"Oh, excuse me, Phil, but I think the sink's encountered the same plumbing problem as it had before." he began, before he saw Olga. "Why, oh my! .Is that you, Olga Pataki?" he said, folding his arms and looking at Olga.  
  
Olga nodded and smiled warmly. "And yes, you must be Mr. Simmons. Do you remember me, though it's been ages?"  
  
"Of course I remember you!" Mr. Simmons exclaimed, as Grandpa rolled his eyes. "How could I forget, the award winning Olga Pataki," Simmons said. Grandpa cleared his throat impatiently as Mr. Simmons was prepared to go into a tangent. "Ah well, I guess we can catch up at dinner tonight. Will I see you then?"  
  
Olga shrugged. "Yes, most likely. I look forward to speaking with you again, Mr. Simmons," she said politely as Mr. Simmons departed.  
  
Grandpa looked at Olga for a while before he spoke again. "What is it about you, anyway, that gets people around here so stirred up. It's like you've got a people magnet on you or something.not saying that's necessarily a bad thing," Grandpa commented, once again contradicting himself. Olga giggled and Grandpa continued. "So, as I was saying, community bathroom. One shower, one toilet, one sink. This is the only public bathroom in the boardinghouse, contrary to popular belief," Grandpa whispered to Olga, who nodded in full belief of Grandpa's statement.  
  
"Okay, and so continuing on, we're getting close to.aw, shoot! Forgot to show you the laundry room, didn't I?" Grandpa realized as he stopped in front of a room and unlocked the door. "Ah, well, we'll get to that later," he resolved as he pushed open the door to Olga's room.  
  
"Oh, my." Olga began, as she walked into the room and looked around. She smiled, though the room was not much to smile at.  
  
"Oh my what? Well, you're smiling, so I'll assume that was a good thing," Grandpa said, eyeing Olga. "Anyway, this is your room. As advertised, a flat rate and affordable. May not have all of the modern amenities, but enough so that you can live. One bedroom, a general room and a small kitchenette.ah, self furnished, of course," Grandpa said, as he dusted off the cabinet in the empty kitchen.  
  
Olga nodded, enchanted somehow even in the dinginess of the room. "Oh, of course." she said, trailing off. She landed on an old dusty couch that was left in the room and rose thick dust all around her, causing her to cough.  
  
"Now, if you wouldn't mind, Ms. Pataki, let's get all the paper work out of the way.my least favorite part of my job.besides being the landlord of a boardinghouse," Grandpa afforded, scratching the back of his head. Olga rose from the couch, dusted herself off as she followed Grandpa out of the door. As she did, she saw Oskar and Mr. Hyunh approaching the room, hefting one of her chests in. Helga was not far behind, sweating profusely even though she was carrying a solitary box.  
  
As Olga and Grandpa went down the hallway, she beamed brightly, excited to finally be out on her own, more or less. "I think I'm going to like it here!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together adoringly.  
  
Grandpa chuckled at her before he continued on down the hallway. "Hehe.that's what you think," he said under his breath. As Olga passed by Mr. Smith's room, his camera followed her walking up the hall, and then refocused to get a full body view. She eyed it suspiciously as Grandpa continued to walk.  
  
  
  
Helga strolled up the steps to the boarding house, her book bag bouncing on her back. It had been a few days since Olga moved in, and so far everything was going well, surprisingly enough. Big Bob and Miriam were the same as they always were, though a little miffed at Olga's "rebellion", Big Bob more so.  
  
She opened the door and stepped aside to let a stampede of Gertie's animals rush by. Then she walked in. Phil was asleep in the den on the rocking chair. One could easily hear Susie and Oskar arguing up the stairs. Mr. Hyunh was singing in the shower as he prepared for work, his Vietnamese accent completely gone and replaced by a smooth, country-western sounding voice. Heaven only knew how that worked. Ernie would arrive soon. Mr. Smith dashed past her and out the door, barely tipping his hat in acknowledgement. Helga continued on into the kitchen where Gertie stirred a giant pot of a bubbling something. She wore dusty, dirty, worn clothes with buckles and shiny buttons. A musket, hopefully a toy one, was strapped to her back. A gunpowder horn hung at her waist, and a bag, probably full of metal pellets, tied beside it.  
  
"Where's Olga?" Helga asked, dumping her book bag in a chair.  
  
Gertie sipped at what was presumed to be soup. Setting the ladle back in, she turned to Helga. "Anne Marie and Robert are setting up traps on the upper floors." She grabbed the musket, her finger slipping over the trigger. "You never know which way those British mongrels will be coming from."  
  
Helga stared at her momentarily, her brow up. Then she shrugged, grabbed her backpack, and made her way up the steps. Oskar came running down past her, but she ignored him. One of the doors lay open and Helga noted it was Olga's, so she peeked in.  
  
Only to find Olga wearing an apron, tearing down wallpaper, and painting walls. Or, more accurately, Mr. Simmons was tearing the paper on one side and Olga was painting the other.  
  
"Hi baby sister!" Olga squealed, putting the designer roller into the dip pan and dashed over to pinch Helga cheeks, leaving paint stains.  
  
She swatted her away, trying to get a better look into the room. "What are you guys doing?"  
  
Mr. Simmons finished peeling a strip, folding it and placing it onto a large piece of plastic. He clasped his hands together. "We're redecorating! Giving the room it's own 'special' touch." He unclasped his hands to make quotation marks in the air as he said "special".  
  
Helga looked at them both. ".And Phil agreed to this?"  
  
Olga giggled, tying an apron on Helga. "Of course Grandpa did, silly. He said we could redecorate this room as long as I paid for all the supplies."  
  
"We'll be making Mr. Hyunh's apartment even more 'special' next!" Mr. Simmons said excitedly.  
  
"Isn't this wonderful, Baby sister?" Olga made her way back to the dip pan, handing a detail brush to Helga so she could take care of corners.  
  
Helga stared at it, and then sighed, dipping it into a giant mixed batch of golden yellow paint. "Great."  
  
  
  
"Are you sure you want to make dinner for the army, Anne Marie?" Grandma asked. "So many mouths to feed, and one must feed them enough to keep them nourished for the battles ahead!" Olga noted the old lady's colonial style uniform with a bit of fear. She'd already realized the poor old woman wasn't all there mentally.  
  
"Oh yes, Gertrude, I'll make enough, I swear." Olga smiled. The answer seemed to mollify Grandma, and she handed Olga a spatula.  
  
"Your weapon, private! I'll see you at Sixteen Hundred hours!" Saluting, she marched out of the kitchen. Olga looked down at the utensil in her hands.  
  
"Sixteen hundred hours? I don't imagine it will take that long!"  
  
  
  
"How long can it take one chick to make a dinner? Sheesh!" Ernie Potts complained. "I mean, really, ya put a little meat in the oven, fix up some potatoes, bada boom, bada bang!" he clapped his hands.  
  
"No, no, Olga's making a more sophisticated dish." Mr. Hyunh smiled, looking down at his empty plate with anticipation. "It should be very good!"  
  
Grandma, still wearing her Colonial style outfit, was barking something about it being past sixteen hundred hours. Finally Olga emerged from the kitchen, carrying a big pot.  
  
"I sure hope everyone's brought their appetites, because I've made plenty of food!" She grinned, obviously not knowing that there was flour stuck to her cheeks and all over her dress.  
  
Oskar looked greedily at the large pot. "Heh heh, finally! The cranky old lady never cooks enough, and my poor stomach grumbles so loudly at night, it keeps Suzie awake!"  
  
"Oh, keep quiet you big baby!" Grandpa muttered under his breath. Olga was just too excited to notice.  
  
"Well, I've cooked a big pot of Bubble and Squeak..." she set it in the middle of the table, with a long ladle sticking out of it. She ran back into the kitchen, and then emerged again with a pan of pastries. "Crumpets... and." Once again, she disappeared into the kitchen after depositing the food on the table. "Lemon cake!" she held the large, golden cake in front of her with pride. "I hope you..." She was cut off.  
  
"BRITISH SYMPATHIZER!!!!" Grandma yelled while knocking the cake off of its pan.  
  
Olga gasped as the cake flew through the air.  
  
Just then, Mr. Simmons decided to join them. "Hello everyone! What's for dinner to." and he was cut off as the cake hit him smack in the face.  
  
Olga ran over in worry while the rest cackled. Grandma was cheering about Britain's defeat.  
  
  
  
Ernie and Oskar waited outside of the bathroom as Mr. Hyunh took his sweet time inside. They both groaned, holding their stomachs. Susie suddenly came from her room to rejoin the line.  
  
"I'm so sorry." Olga sniveled, her hands together as she spoke to them.  
  
Ernie waved a hand. "We're just so used to Grandma's cooking yours was too fancy for our stomach."  
  
"Oh dear.maybe tomorrow I should cook something a little less foreign?"  
  
Oskar licked his lips. "I think I can take a little bathroom time for that again, heh heh." Then his stomach made a loud noise and he curled over again, holding it.  
  
Olga placed a worried hand to her mouth.  
  
Grandpa walked by with a laugh, patting his own abdomen and then Olga's back. "The best food I ever had! Not a single commode break in two hours!"  
  
"Speak for yourself, Grandpa." Mr. Hyunh groaned as he opened the door.  
  
While the others leaned away from the sudden smell, Olga pinching her nose, Oskar dashed in.  
  
"Oskar!" Ernie cried, since he had been next in line. "You weasel!"  
  
  
  
Grandpa strolled down the upstairs hall, carrying a glass of orange juice, humming to himself. Olga's food hadn't sent him to bathroom once, besides normal nature calling.  
  
Hearing something, he looked into Ernie's room. "Holy peppers!" He yelped, dropping his glass.  
  
Olga stood inside on a ladder, one hand to her cheek in concern. Ernie was at the bottom of the ladder, a paint can on his head and paint dripping around him.  
  
And half his room was pink.  
  
"You can say that again." Ernie groaned.  
  
Olga sniffled. "I'm so sorry!"  
  
  
  
Ernie waited outside of the bathroom impatiently, Mr. Hyunh and Oskar in line behind him.  
  
"Man, how long does she have to be in there?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.  
  
"Yes, she always take too much time!" Mr. Hyunh huffed in his thick Vietnamese accent, both of his hands on his hips with towel gripped tightly in one.  
  
"Too bad we can't get rid of her somehow." Ernie sighed.  
  
Oskar, who had been oddly quiet, perked up. "What if we got that little ugly girl to talk her into moving?"  
  
"Helga is a very nice girl." Mr. Hyunh scolded.  
  
"Yeah, but she still has a hot temper and she's not too pretty with that one eyebrow of hers." Ernie snickered, gesturing to his own brow.  
  
Mr. Hyunh and Oskar stared at him and his unibrow.  
  
"What?" Asked the short man, pushing from the wall and holding his hands out in question.  
  
Mr. Hyunh just continued. "Besides, she's probably very happy that that girl is out of her house."  
  
Oskar grinned. "I bet you five dollars I can get Olga kicked out."  
  
Ernie snorted. "If we can't get a weasel like you kicked out, or you haven't gotten yourself kicked out by now.how are you going to do it to her?"  
  
"Are you in or not?"  
  
Ernie went back to his previous position against the wall with his arms crossed. "Yeah, yeah. But when you lose, I want my five bucks and the ten you owed me from two weeks ago."  
  
"I am staying out of this one." Mr. Hyunh sighed with his hands in the air.  
  
"All right! Heh heh!" Oskar chuckled, rubbing his greedy hands together. "You better have your five bucks ready, Ernie. Don't you worry."  
  
"I'll believe it when I see it you cheap-skate."  
  
It was then Olga finally announced her leaving of the joint bathroom that all three men rushed to go in next, ignoring the line's waiting positions. Mr. Simmons came and calmly walked in while they didn't notice since they were busy bickering and scrambling.  
  
Finally, Ernie turned as the door clicked shut. "Hey, who went in?"  
  
  
  
"Please baby sister?" Came Olga's whiny voice over the phone. Helga sighed, sitting on her bed in her room while talking to Olga.  
  
"Olga, I can't promise anything."  
  
"Just try, Baby Sister. I want Mummy and Daddy to see how well I'm doing here!"  
  
"I'll try." Helga sighed in aggravation, hanging up the phone from her extension in her bedroom. Olga was going to have a huge dinner at the boarding house the next day and Olga somehow managed to convince her to try and make their parents come.  
  
She put her head in her hands. "I must be getting soft."  
  
"OLGA!" Big Bob cried from downstairs.  
  
She hopped off her bed, clenching her fists. "It's HELGA dad! HELGA!"  
  
  
  
"I can't believe I let myself get dragged into eating dinner at this run down, old rickety place." Big Bob grunted, overlooking the aged building. They waited just outside for only a minute before Olga opened the door, smiling brightly.  
  
"I'm so very glad you came to dinner! You're going to just love it! I'm afraid Mr. Simmons couldn't join us today, something about schoolwork." She explained and basically dragged Helga into the kitchen while Bob and Miriam followed silently. The usual round of greetings and introductions went around before everybody sat down at the table, which was elegantly set, wine glasses, special china, the works.  
  
"So Olga, what new exciting dish are you going to be serving us today?" Susie asked and Oskar made a face and piped in.  
  
"As long as it doesn't have any of that green stringy vegetable, you know, the one that smells like grandpa's socks. Eh heh heh heh"  
  
"Oskar!" Susie admonished. "That meal was very good, and don't be such a baby, cabbage is a very good thing to eat."  
  
"I was just telling the truth Susie." The two of them proceeded into a silent argument.  
  
"Attention everybody! I've made this dinner in honor of the very kind people who allowed me to move in here and helped make my change to living on my own just as easy as could be." Olga said then disappeared behind a corner and brought a dish.  
  
"What is that?" Helga asked in suspicion at the smell, the others were looking at it rather oddly as well.  
  
"Champignons à l'Ail!" Was the reply and Helga made a face as her sister set something down that looked a lot like mushrooms and croissants.  
  
"And that would make it look more appetizing...how?"  
  
"It's Garlic mushrooms silly."  
  
"Ooh well that makes a whole big world of difference." Came a dark retort.  
  
"Next up-Champignons à la Grecque!" Helga heard and then saw Oskar make a face and concealed an agreeing snort of disapproval.  
  
"Lovely, more mushrooms."  
  
"Watch it little lady."  
  
This comment she chose to ignore.  
  
"And for dessert.Grand Tiramisu!" She said but sat down. "That can come later."  
  
"What is Grand Tiramisu or whatever?" Helga asked skeptically.  
  
Kind of a French cheese cake."  
  
"Well why couldn't you have just said that?" Helga muttered and rolled her eyes, then picked at her food for a second as everybody, after eyeing the food in mild skepticism, finally started to eat.  
  
After a while, probably the worst possible thing to happen, happened. "So..Old Timer, is this nuthouse worth letting my daughter stay here? I see she's done some changes, for the better of course-" Bob started in and Helga groaned.  
  
"Daad.please-"  
  
"Pipe down!"  
  
"Of course this place is worth letting your daughter live here, it's a great place for her to stay warm atmosphere." At this Mr. Potts snorted into his drink and ignored a glare from Phil. "Good prices, the works! She even has her own room and everything." He added.  
  
"Oh, yes daddy. It's great here, I just love it so much!" Olga chimed in and giggled.  
  
"Oh, yeah, just grand." Potts added and Oskar laughed a little.  
  
"She cooks so much, it's like a dream come true! Always room for seconds, or thirds even!"  
  
He grinned and Susie gasped. "Oskar! Please!"  
  
"Well it's true Susie" and again they fell into argument.  
  
"However, some of the decorations I could definitely do without." Phil muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Bob asked angrily when Olga went to grab the dessert.  
  
"If I see one more frilly little antique critter around, I'll smash it." Potts muttered and Helga then snorted into her drink and had to stop herself from laughing.  
  
"Who asked you loons to join in this conversation?!" Phil shot at them and then roughly forked Oskar's hand as he went for Olga's vulnerable meal. "Leave her stuff alone you no good for nothing cheating scum!"  
  
Miriam exchanged glances with Arnold's grandma and Helga shook her head in disgust as Olga walked into the room with the dessert to find nearly everybody in the midst of an argument.  
  
"Oh dear." Helga heard then had to stop herself from laughing outright when she caught wind of the exclusive argument that had broken out between Arnold's grandpa and her dad.  
  
"Oh! Not that incident again! It was an accident for mercy's sake, the car damage was fixed and everything's just rosy now!" Was what she heard from Phil's side only to be countered by.  
  
"You old bag of wrinkles, you'd just better be thankful you're so blasted lucky at Golf! You still should have paid for both yours and MY damage, twice! I should sue you for every penny you have.and it probably would only be pennies..." They were arguing about a time when the two cars had had a simple fender bender, which was followed by a golf contest to find out who would pay damage repair for both vehicles.  
  
It looked like the food was going to start to fly, so all at once Helga, Miriam, Arnolds Grandma, and Olga backed up from the table and watched as the argument heated up to such a point.  
  
"THAT'S IT! Come on Miriam, Helga, we're out of here!" Bob shouted.  
  
Oskar let out a loud yell when a fork came in contact with his hand. "Keep your mitts off my food, Kokoshka!  
  
"But Dad!" Helga protested.  
  
"You can do whatever you want, we're out of here, come on Miriam." Bob ordered and stormed towards the exit muttering profusely to himself.  
  
Helga snickered when a croissant bounced off his head and fell to the floor, almost immediately bringing an end to the dinner of disaster.  
  
  
  
Oskar peeked into the den, Grandpa was sound asleep in his rocking chair, his head lolled on the back of the wooden frame. Snickering to himself, he snuck over and slipped his fingers between the wooden bars, pulling a ring of keys from Phil's pocket. Pausing when Grandpa muttered something about raspberries, and Oskar stiffened when Phil's head rolled towards him. Finally, letting out a breath, he snuck back out of the room.  
  
Grandpa suddenly jolted up, looking around in confusion. "Eh, who's there?" He peered back and forth, shrugged, and fell right back to sleep. Oskar hid around the doorframe with the set of keys held tightly to his chest. He waited a minute, and then tiptoed up the stairs. "Heh heh, I'm going to get five bucks!"  
  
  
  
Olga, almost as if it were a practiced ballet step, moved out of her room. To her surprise a set of stairs was pulled down from the ceiling to her left and Oskar was perched at the top, struggling with a set of keys. She walked up to the bottom step, watching him cheer as the final key clicked the lock open and he pulled it away, rubbing his hands together and chuckling. "What are you doing, Mr. Kokoshka?" She asked perkily.  
  
He jumped, the keys flying down and then jingling as Olga caught them effortlessly, resting on a single foot and leaning into the air with her long, slender form. She moved back into a normal standing position, and looked at the ring. "Aren't these Phil's?" She asked sweetly, her face betraying no suspicion.  
  
Oskar thought about it a moment. His plan had been a simple one: steal something from Arnold's room and blame it on Olga.then take it and sell it. Still.a new, better one came. "Yeah. Heh heh, Grandpa gave them to me. I was going to get it open for you." He said as he came down the stairs.  
  
"For me?" She looked at the keys quizzically once more.  
  
He nodded vigorously, beginning to sneak away down the hall. "Grandpa wanted you to redecorate up there. A new room for.uh.Grandma. Yeah, heh heh." And with that, he made a mad dash for his own room, slamming it shut behind him. Olga looked at the keys once more, then shrugged, and strolled up to look around. She smiled all the way as several plans came to her mind.  
  
  
  
Helga wandered through the front door, lugging a paper bag full of the strangest groceries from the most far away stores in town. Olga had sent her out in search of exotic things for dinner and she was tired from the long trek. Kicking the boarding house door closed behind a stampede of Grandma's pets, she peered about. The place was oddly quiet for so late in the day without dinner being set yet.  
  
Then she heard the toilet flush upstairs and decided, perhaps, it wasn't so strange after all. Smirking, she went into the den, setting the bag down, and went over to Phil. "Hey! Grandpa!" She shouted in his ear.  
  
"What?! Who?! I didn't do it, it was Jimmy Kofka!" He yelled, snapping forward and nearly falling out of the chair. Helga cackled and he paused to glare at her, and then looked around. "What time is it?"  
  
"A little late in the day. Surprised no one's complaining for dinner." She looked out into the hallway, hands on her hips. "Speaking of which, where is Olga? She usually practically pounces on me as soon as I open the door."  
  
"Aw, that's sweet. Baby sister misses her great big hug from her older, award winning sister." Grandpa clasped his hands together, mocking her big sister's usual manner of speaking.  
  
Helga stared at him for a moment, deciding to ignore his usual quirks, and went back to looking around. She picked the bag up and went to the kitchen. Ernie was just beginning to sit in the dining room, waiting at the table with an almost frightful expression as if he already knew what was for dinner. Grandpa, yawning, followed and Ernie blinked as they passed by.  
  
"What are you doing down here, Gramps?" He asked, confused.  
  
Grandpa blinked. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
Ernie shrugged. "The stairs are pulled down that lead to Arnold's room and the door's open. I assumed you were up there."  
  
There was a sudden rattling and a crash as Helga dropped something and poked her head out the kitchen doorway. "What?"  
  
Grandpa scoffed. "I'm the only one with the key to that room and it's right here." He said, patting his pocket. He blinked, realizing he hadn't felt or heard anything. He patted it again, bewildered. Then he and Helga exchanged glances.  
  
They both ran off like a single shot up the stairs.  
  
Barreling down the hall and fighting to be the first up the steps, they barged in just as Olga began to peel a layer of wallpaper. Helga screamed at the top of her lungs in panic and Grandpa shouted, "Oh no!" He ran over with Helga right behind.  
  
"What are you doing?" Helga gasped.  
  
"Whatever do you mean, baby sister? I'm redecorating." Olga smiled brightly, pressing one hand to her cheek, the other clasping a tiny scraper. Only a small corner was peeled down, but both Helga and Grandpa stared at it in horror.  
  
Grandpa stuttered for a moment and then managed to get the words out. "Wha.re.redecorating? No! Who told you to do that?" His hands held to his face.  
  
"Well, Mr. Kokoshka said it was a surprise for-"  
  
Grandpa interrupted her, "Oskar?! Ooohh, that weasel's going to get it this time!" He then rolled up a sleeve and shook his bony fist. Phil then promptly headed down the set of stairs and down the hall. "Oskar, I want to have a word with you." He called in false cheer.  
  
Helga and Olga stared after him, and then Helga calmly walked over to her big sister, removing the scraper from her hand and leading her down the stairs. True, her sister drove her nuts, but the boarding house had been her one safe place from her family, the last piece of Arnold she had left. She'd rather the worst of it all be in one place rather than two. "Look, Olga, don't you think you've proved your point?"  
  
"My point?" Olga asked innocently, watching as her younger sister flung the scraper into the air, it letting out a loud "thunk" sound as it dug into the wall, just missing Mr. Hyunh as he left his room, sipping a cup of coffee.  
  
Helga set an arm around Olga's shoulders, pulling her closer to make sure she listened. "Yes. You wanted to prove you could make it on your own, and you did."  
  
"But baby sister, I like it here! I can't just go back now!"  
  
They stopped after they got off the bottom step, Oskar dashing from his room with Grandpa not far behind, hollering and waving his fists. "Yes, yes you can." She considered her words for a pause. "The house isn't the same without you." The words barely squeezed out, there was truth behind them and she hated every syllable that she was forced to say.  
  
"That's so sweet baby sister! But-"  
  
"Mom's been ignoring her aerobics.and Dad really misses you."  
  
Olga thought about it a moment, one manicured fingernail held to her lips. ".Really?"  
  
Helga nodded. "Oh yes. He hasn't said it out loud, but he talks about how much nicer the place had been, how quiet the house is."  
  
Grandpa came trotting back up the steps, muttering under his breath about Oskar running outside. He then walked up to the girls as if he had just remembered something, which, he had. "You know, this reminds me of the time when my friend's older brother got in a fight with his parents. He was so mad, he moved out of the house with nothing more than his pride. And a ham sandwich."  
  
"What happened," Olga asked breathlessly.  
  
"Well, he was determined to show his parents that he could make it on his own, so he took a room right here in the boarding house. He didn't have any money, so he worked around the place to earn his keep. After he'd been here a while, he decided to invite his parents over to show them how well he was doing on his own."  
  
"And I'll just bet they were so proud of him when they saw him!" Olga gushed.  
  
"Well, no, but while he was arguing with his parents, he left his room unlocked."  
  
"Where are you going with this?" Helga interjected.  
  
"Aren't you listening? The ham sandwich! I finally had access to that ham sandwich!" Phil cackled gleefully.  
  
Helga rolled her eyes and put her arm back around Olga's shoulders. "Listen, Olga, Mom and Dad really miss you. You're all they talk about at dinner." Olga didn't need to know exactly what direction those conversations tended to take.  
  
Really?" Olga asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.  
  
"Criminy! Why else do you think Big Bob got so upset?" Helga asked. Olga didn't notice Phil behind her, clenching his fists and mumbling about the 'big blowhard'.  
  
"Do you really think so, Baby Sister?" Olga said, clasping one of Helga's hands in hers.  
  
"Well, sure," she said, prying Olga's fingers from hers one by one.  
  
"You're right," Olga cried happily. She turned to Phil, who looked like he'd been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Oblivious, Olga ran over and embraced him.  
  
"And I couldn't have done it without you," she said. "Thank you so much for being there for me and my baby sister. I just know that you've helped bring my family closer together."  
  
Phil looked over Olga's head at Helga, who shrugged.  
  
"Well, I'd better start packing right away," Olga said, wiping a tear from her eye. She then pranced off to her room to start packing.  
  
Phil sighed as the door shut behind Olga. "I am going to miss that girl's cooking." And he then trudged off down the hall, holding his stomach, knowing what was going to come once Gertie started cooking again.  
  
Helga shook her head at Phil, a half smile on her face. She looked down the hall, watching Mr. Hyunh go into the joint bathroom. Ernie was downstairs, Grandpa heading there, and Oskar was outside. Mr. Simmons was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Helga looked left, and then right.  
  
Then she sneaked up the steps, going into Arnold's room and softly closing the door behind her. She tiptoed over to his old bed, sitting gently as if it would break at any moment. She ran her hands over the old sheets. Not a speck of dust dare tarnish such a place, as Grandma, or Helga, kept the room spick and span.  
  
She sighed softly, falling onto her side and burying her face into the pillow and inhaling deeply. That old familiar scent remained within the folds of cotton, but just barely. "How I miss the smell of your hair.I never did figure out what shampoo you used." She swooned, hugging the pillow a few moments.  
  
Hearing a small sound, her eyes snapped open to see Grandpa peeking in with eyebrows raised. He blinked once, and then twice before Helga sat straight up, setting the pillow back in place. Then she smoothed the sheets and laughed sheepishly.  
  
Grandpa stared for an instant, and in one swift motion, a jingling blur flew at her and she caught it on reflex. It was Grandpa's set of keys. "I'll let you lock up." He said, turning and closing the door with a knowing, small smile.  
  
Grandpa closed the door and made his way down the steps, shaking his head. "She's crazier than Pookie."  
  
Helga stared after him, and then at the ring of keys in her hand.  
  
Grinning, she pulled a free key from her pocket. Grandpa wasn't the only one with a key.  
  
  
  
"Welcome home darling," Miriam said as soon as Olga was through the door. "We've missed you so much."  
  
After sharing a brief embrace with her, Olga asked, "Where's Daddy?"  
  
"He's in there watching TV," Miriam pointed.  
  
Olga walked into the living room, holding her suitcases with both hands. Bob was sitting in his recliner, watching TV as usual. He didn't acknowledge her presence at all.  
  
"Daddy?" Olga managed to chirp out.  
  
He turned his head slightly, but then returned it to the screen. "Oh... you're back," Bob said as nonchalantly as he could make it.  
  
"Yes," she nodded. "I didn't realize how much you wanted me back in the house."  
  
"Yeah, me either," he said, lifting the remote and flipping through the channels rapidly. "But I'm glad you're back... nobody makes a cup of coffee like my little Olga does."  
  
"Oh Daddy!" she cried out happily, dropping her suitcases with a loud thud and running over to him. Olga wrapped him into a hug, but Bob only patted her arm.  
  
"Well isn't this great?" Miriam smiled, joining in the hug. "We're a family again!"  
  
"Oh gag me," Helga scowled, watching from the stairs.  
  
"Come on Mummy, I'll make you a nice smoothie," Olga said smiling.  
  
"Oh no honey, I'm fine. Really," Miriam replied, shaking her head.  
  
"Nonsense," she said. "I'll even put in extra strawberries, just like you like it."  
  
Miriam hesitated, but eventually gave in. "Well if you insist..."  
  
"Perfect!" Olga said and clasped her hands. "You get the Tabasco sauce and I'll get the blender!"  
  
Helga watched as her mother and sister disappeared into the kitchen. She then looked at her father, who was still busy flipping through the channels. She sighed and left the stairs, walking toward the recliner.  
  
"So..." she said slowly. "Everything's okay? You're going to let Olga pursue her new career while she stays with us?"  
  
"Of course not," he said, eyes still glued to the TV. "But we'll just sweep this under the rug for now. Olga will forget all about acting and things will return to normal, you'll see. Big Bob is still king of his castle, master of his domain, and nothing is going to change that."  
  
  
  
Helga ignored the sounds coming from downstairs as her parents and Olga talked and laughed. Sighing, she pulled a fresh piece of paper from her backpack.  
  
"Dear Arnold," She started, talking out loud as she went along. "Your room is safe yet again, I stopped the horrible Olga from doing anything to it. I can't say I'm happy to have her home," She paused, hearing Bob's roaring laughter. Somewhere down inside, it hurt. They were never so happy about her. She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway.  
  
"But I'm glad she's not at the boarding house anymore. I need someplace to get away from them all.  
  
Grandpa misses Olga's cooking, and Grandma's convinced Olga was a spy for Russia. Other than that, all is back to normal. What's considered normal around here, anyway.  
  
See, everything worked out even without you, hair boy.  
  
I played baseball with the guys after all. My team won. We were up against the Juniors at our high school, Bartlett High. Wolfgang still tries to beat us.  
  
We could have used you for a short stop, though.  
  
Even if you don't hit well, whenever you do, you usually smack someone. Too bad you couldn't wallop that moron, Wolfgang, one.  
  
Well, I'll see you around, football-head.  
  
Helga Pataki  
  
P.S. Okay, maybe I miss you a little. I need someone to throw my spitballs at."  
  
  
  
Written By: Old Betsy  
  
Edited By: The Five Avengers  
  
Directed By: Nicole K.  
  
Produced By: Nicole K.  
  
Based on characters created by Craig Bartlett  
  
Most characters are privately owned by such parties as Nickelodeon, Viacom, etc. and are used without permission, but not without respect. 


	2. The Legend of Meloss

__

"Dear Arnold,

Science stinks. I mean, why does it matter how things came about as long as they did come about? People have long, drawn out theories about everything, even theories about theories! Why can't we just roll with flow and deal with the cards Mother Nature hands out without studying them so hard? I know if you were here, you'd probably be saying something like 'Even mother nature needs help!' or some environmentalist stuff of that sort. But I mean…"

"Helga!" Phoebe whispered to her best friend from across the lab table that they shared. "Mrs. Sandler is giving you _that_ look again. You'd best put the note away."

Helga sighed, capped her pen, and folded her notebook closed. She leaned forward on her desk, and put her head in her hands, attention fully on the teacher. Mrs. Sandler smiled back, satisfied, and began talking.

"Class," she began as she smiled broadly, snatching up a piece of chalk. "Tomorrow we are going to Elk Island to study all of the elements of its unique habitat." She turned around and wrote "Field Trip: Elk Island, Tomorrow" on the chalkboard in her sharp handwriting. 

"Pah-leeze," Helga sighed, looking at Phoebe, "We've been to Elk Island before. Big whoop."

"Helga, I think it is safe to assume that you, as well as the rest of our class, will find the trip interesting. You seem to enjoy a more…" Phoebe paused, as if looking for the correct word, "hands on approach to learning, which I think you'll use to the best of your abilities tomorrow."

Helga rolled her eyes at the comment, but they turned back to the teacher, who was still talking.

"All of my classes will be out all day on this 'adventure'. I've tried my hardest not to put anyone with a person from their same class." Some people groaned, while others cheered. 

"Ugh, good. I don't want to be working with _him_ anymore," Rhonda shuddered as she looked at her lab partner, Eugene. He had a neck brace and two broken arms from a freak accident that had happened earlier that same week, involving a coffee maker, salad shooter, and a wad of gum.

Eugene was his usual, chipper self. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rhonda! I didn't know that you didn't like taking notes for me!"

Rhonda grumbled an inaudible response.

Meanwhile, the science teacher was handing out a piece of paper to every student in her class. "On the top of this paper, you'll see your other three group members, and at the bottom, you will see your parent permission form."

Helga read from her own sheet. "I'm partners with Rhonda, Brainy and Curly!" she gasped. "Man, can I get anyone worse?"

Phoebe looked over her papers with an almost sardonic smile. "I'm with Harold."

"Ah, I see, I could have gotten worse." Helga chuckled. "Thanks, Pheebs."

"Harold, Stinky and Sid," Phoebe stated neutrally, looking down at the paper as if she expected the words to change if she so much as blinked. 

Laughing, Helga peered over Phoebe's shoulder. "Criminy, you have the worst group possible!" She felt nothing but pity for her best friend. "I feel like I'm working with the dream team now!"

Phoebe sighed, and placed the paper into her purple three ring binder. "I'm sure they will work as hard as they can on the project. I have faith in them..." The bell rang just then, and the other students ran out ahead of the two talking girls. 

"Whatever you say, Pheebs. Good luck!" Helga called out, turning the opposite way towards her locker.

The familiar buzz of noise that scraped over the school lunchroom sounded the bells of doom for teachers on cafeteria duty. Nerves pulsing, the unfortunate group of assigned instructors sat in the 'teacher corner' of the cafeteria, exchanging aspirins and classroom woes as they eyed the untamed teenagers over steaming cups of coffee.

Several students waited ruefully in line as a grubby looking cafeteria-lady loaded on the day's special-a questionable, glob of green and brown she called 'Tuna Surprise.' However, this was only a portion of the teenage population that occupied the lunchroom. Many were fortunate enough to pack their own lunch, while few chose starvation over the lunch menu.

Quite a few students from Mrs. Sandler's class sat together, talking about the upcoming "field trip".

"Well, what I don't understand is why we are prohibited from entering those caves," Phoebe said, shrugging as she took a sip of her chocolate milk. "Why has the entrance to the Elk Island caves always been taboo? According to geological reports from the USG's, the caves are perfectly safe in every aspect," she commented, leaning across the table to where the discussion of the project was intensifying.

Sid perked up upon hearing the mention of the caves. "Ah, they're probably afraid we'll run into Meloss or something," he commented, winking at Gerald. Gerald nodded back, and put down his own lunch.

Helga, who did not catch this interchange, asked the question both had been waiting for. "Meloss, huh? What the heck is that, some foreign disease?" she chortled in mockery as she sat at the lunch table.

Gerald took this as his cue. "What? Don't tell me you haven't heard the story of Meloss?" he said, standing up from the lunch table with such a force that he toppled over his chair. The rest of his classmates stared at him in silence, as no one had heard the story before. Gerald smiled and glanced back towards Sid. "Sid, it's time. Lead the way, my man."

Sid took center stage, standing in front of a vacant lunch table with his arms crossed. "The Legend of Meloss; is a legend that has intrigued audiences since the beginning of time - or at least twenty years before we were born. It has been passed from kid generation to kid generation. Now our very own Gerald, Keeper of Urban Legends, will share that story with us. Take it away, Gerald," he said, stepping back and letting his partner captivate their audience.

Gerald, immediately enchanting his audience, used one of the cafeteria chairs to climb to the tabletop, where he stood to tell his tale. "Back in the day, I mean, _way_ back in the day…thousands of years even, before man made his first step on this Earth, there roamed a creature that dominated much in the way that man does today. This reptilian carnivore and those of its species inhabited the Earth in millions, and was the most active predator of many other animals that existed in its time. Then, one day, for no apparent reason, most of the species died out, eventually forcing the active predators into extinction.

"As man began to inhabit the Earth, completing their settlement thousands of years later, it was rumored that perhaps this long-time extinct predecessor of humankind still existed in isolated populations. For years, archaeologists searched for recent fossils of the creature, but the remains were never found and the theory was later dropped. It wasn't until there was an actual sighting in our very own Elk Island caves that scientists begun to take the theory more seriously."

By now, the entire lunchroom was very much enthralled in Gerald's tale. Even the skeptical, among them Helga, did not interrupt as the words passed through his lips fluidly. As Phoebe looked on in adoration, and the rest of the students in admiration, Gerald continued.

"It was on a lonely night that an aimless young man, no older than us, roamed Elk Island after dark. By mere curiosity, the boy wandered into the caves on this night and strolled casually deeper and deeper into the darkness. Finally, when he reached the innermost part of the cave, he began to hear ominous glottal noises. Using a lantern as his sole source of light, he raised it to see a horrifying reptilian creature, standing on its hind legs. It had rough, spiked skin, and a large mouth that could devour a person whole. The boy was able to flee to safety, sharing his account of the dangerous, carnivorous beast with beady eyes and sharp teeth with anyone who would listen. The name _Meloss_ was later coined for this fabled creature.

"Since then, there have been many more isolated sightings of _Meloss_, though official photographs of this beast are yet to be produced. To this day, though many adventurous types still venture the caves in hopes of discovering him, the caves of Elk Island have been declared unfit for exploration and have been put off limits. Nonetheless, it is rumored that if one is on the island near the caves and is quiet enough…one can hear the terrifying guttural noises of…_Meloss_. The end."

With that, Gerald ended his legend in a flourish, as he always did, bowing before his audience. His classmates clapped graciously and he took his bow, a moment that was interrupted by one of the lunch supervisors who was standing at the corner of the room. "Hey, kid, get off the table!" she yelled, blowing her whistle at Gerald. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged at the teacher before carefully jumping down from the rickety table.

"Oh, so there's a reptilian carnivore named Meloss, huh?" Helga said, emerging from the crowd with her arms crossed. "I tell you, _Gerald_, I've heard some pretty bad legends come out of your mouth but this one takes the cake. Criminy, who would actually believe that?" She exclaimed, thus breaking the moment and causing dispersion from the lunch table from which Gerald stood.

Sid leaned over to whisper to Gerald, "I hope Meloss eats _her_."

His dark skinned friend laughed. "I don't think it would be able to."

"Uh, Miriam..." Helga approached her mom, permission slip in hand. "Can you please sign this crummy paper so I can go on some field trip tomorrow?" She raised an eyebrow as her mother sat down in the middle of the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed.

"Sorry, honey, but not now. I need to," she said as she pulled a book from out behind her and read from it, "take my mind off of all other worldly things and achieve a state of true happiness." Smiling to herself, Miriam took in another deep breath and exhaled.

Helga paused, looking down to read the book's cover. "Yoga for the Unknowing" she read to herself, then shook her head, and walked off. "Maybe BOB can take time off of his intense TV watching to sign a blasted piece of paper," she muttered, walking into the family room. Sure enough, her father was sitting in front of the TV, watching the Wheel.

"'L'! 'L', YOU NIMROD!" he yelled at the television in disgust.

"Um, 'H'?" came the tentative reply from the contestant.

Bob tended to get a bit too involved in his game shows. "YOU IDIOT! Now you won't get the new car!" He slouched forward in his chair, and Helga took this opportunity to approach him.

"Hey, Bob? Can you sign this lousy paper for me?" She held out the permission slip and a pen.

"Oh, huh? Uh, sure, whatever, Olga." he mumbled, grabbing the pen and signing the paper while staring at the screen. "Big Bob Pataki, Beeper King. There you go."

"It's Helga, Dad," Helga said emotionlessly, turning back to the doorway. She was about to leave when an urgent voice broke through the cheesy, game show music.

"We interrupt the current program, 'Wheel of Destiny', for breaking news." the anchorman announced with a painted smile. He looked back down at his papers, then back up at the camera. By this time, Helga was sitting on the ground, next to Bob's chair.

"This had better be good." Big Bob muttered to himself.

"Although reports of a reptilian-like creature living in the caves of Elk Island have been circulating for years, there was no real, documented proof that such a monster could exist. That is, until this morning." The screen changed from the overly perky, news anchor to a snapshot of a rather bulky figure crouching in the shadows. The lighting of the photograph was awful, but spikes and scales were evident as well as a glowing pair of beady eyes. The voice of the news anchor continued speaking over the photograph screen. "The footage you see here is not altered or enhanced in anyway; this is the actual film capture of the fabled 'Meloss' by amateur photographer Don Wilson."

"Why, Rhonda, darling!" Buckley exclaimed, looking at the TV, then back down at the permission slip. "How dreadful! That monster is at the same place your little..." he searched for a proper word, "outing is to be tomorrow. I don't think you should attend."

"Oh, but daddy!" Rhonda gasped. "This project is _terribly _important! It's worth a good portion of my grade! Please, I'm sure that if it's any threat, our teacher will cancel the trip immediately!"

Buckley looked back at his distressed daughter. "Fine, honey, you've convinced me. Stay safe on the trip, you hear me?"

"Oh, yes, daddy!" she smiled and gave him a small, 'proper' hug.

Reba Hyerdahl gasped, looking at the TV. "How awful!" she drawled. "Why, Elk Island! How can we let you go there tomorrow?"

Kyo put an arm around his worried wife. "I'm sure Phoebe could tell you how highly impossible that tale is, couldn't you, Phoebe?"

Their daughter nodded, though she truly did believe it a bit. After all, Gerald did warn them.

"I'm sure everything will be fine tomorrow," Phoebe said, smiling somewhat, hiding her small measure of doubt. She looked on as her father signed the permission slip. "Domo arigatou gozaimasu," she said, taking the paper, and going back to her room.

The report had finally ended, Big Bob's show coming on at the last minute and making him miss the answers and who the winner was. Ignoring his furious shouting, Helga made her way up the stairs, her hand running over the smooth, wooden rail.

"Meloss." She scoffed midway. "As if any of tall hair boy's tales have ever been true."

When she stepped into the upper hallway and headed to her room, she decided to give a nice tribute to her Arnold shrine to keep her safe, just to be sure…

Some teachers were unpacking equipment, pulling it out of the large number of motorboats. Who knows how they had managed to rent them, considering the school's meager budget. The students were all lined up on the beach that had no sand to speak of, the teachers lined in front of them, and pulling boats high onto the land to avoid any incoming tides taking them away. Mrs. Sandler was the only teacher not doing so; too busy instructing the large body of students.

"Now, everyone, as you should know, the cave is off limits."

"It's because of Meloss, isn't it?" came a shrill voice that Helga could have only guessed to be a panicked Sid. Helga was standing with her so-called group, Phoebe off with hers where the only way she could spot them was from Stinky's height.

The teacher shot him a glare. "All of you should know by now that those are mere rumors and that there is no ancient creature within them. The reason you're not allowed in is because you could easily get lost, trapped, and many other things.

"Now, you all have separate assignments. Stay with your group and meet back here in two hours. The other teachers will be wandering around, chaperoning you. Even if you do not have them for any of your classes, respect them as much as you respect me."

"Which isn't much," Helga muttered, but her comment was ignored. Mrs. Sandler went on for a few more minutes, and eventually wished them luck and sent them off. The groups immediately broke apart, scattering amongst the vegetation.

Rhonda scoffed at the entire trip idea. "I, for one, still think this whole project is positively ludicrous. They expect us to trounce about and possibly get _dirty_?"

"Criminy, princess," Helga sighed, rolling her eyes and turning to follow the other groups. "I'm sure you'll somehow manage to keep your image up."

"Well, it does come natural to a Lloyd to keep their appearance highly fashionable no matter the circumstance." Rhonda fluffed her hair, following. The two girls disappeared in between the trees, only distinguishable from the slight banter.

Brainy paused, looked at Curly, and then shrugged as he moved to follow the two girls. Curly looked about, considering nabbing a boat and making a run for it, but the thought of getting to stick by Rhonda's side was by far the more overwhelming. "Wait for me, my Queen!" he swooned, and then cackled as he dashed into the trees.

"…" Mrs. Sandler stared after him. "That boy worries me."

"So, what are we supposed to be looking for?" Curly asked, practically clinging to Rhonda's side.

She curled her lip in revulsion, leaning away. "How should I know? Helga's the one with the assignment paper."

Helga frowned over the sheet, trying to read the paper in the dim light that danced between the upper canopies. "I can't remember, something about minerals."

A light fell over the paper and she blinked, looking up to see Brainy holding a pen light for her.

"…Do you carry that wherever you go?"

"Uh…yeah." he wheezed out.

She gave him an odd look. "What for?"

He only shrugged, and then was pushed aside by Rhonda. "Who cares? Now, what's the assignment?"

Helga glared at Rhonda as well as Curly, as they hovered too close for her normal comfort level. "Well, _princess_, we basically try to find rocks around here and then identify them."

"Rocks? Or minerals?" Curly asked.

Helga gave him a sardonic look. "Minerals, though we might get extra credit for identifying sedimentary types."

"Do we have to _dig_?" Rhonda's lip curled up again. "If it weren't for the grade, I wouldn't subject myself to such crude matters…"

"I'm sure that you would then leave it for us lesser people to deal with."

"Naturally."

Helga sighed in disgust as they continued to look over the sheet. It wasn't long before another team interrupted them.

"Ooohh…look, it's Helga and her little _group_," Harold attempted a taunt.

Helga only gave a frustrated sigh, glaring into a sky she couldn't see and not bothering to turn to look at him. "I have no time for you, Harold."

"Yes, go away and do your own project," Rhonda snuffed, waving a hand.

Phoebe stepped forward to try and assuage any arguments that might start. "Actually, Rhonda, our project consists of studying the plant types of Elk Island. More specifically, we are to examine those of the order _Filicales_…ferns. We were simply looking for subjects of which to make observations and catalogue."

"Yeah, _Helga_." Harold added on. "What do you have? A bunch of stupid rocks?"

"Yes Harold." she turned to leer at him. "Just like the ones in your head," she snapped, jabbing a finger at his forehead.

"Hey!"

"Enough, Helga," Rhonda stepped between the two, her arms crossed huffily. "I believe my grade is more important than how many insults the two of you can throw at each other."

"I haven't even started," Helga growled, but she took a step back, crossing her arms as well as if to mock Rhonda's stance.

Phoebe sighed a breath of relief.

"Hey, guys!" Sid piped up as he and Stinky made their way through some brush, appearing from seemingly nowhere.

"What's goin' on, fellers?" Stinky drawled, grinning almost as broadly as Sid.

"Nothin'," Harold suddenly snapped, stepping away from Helga's group as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"We found us another one of those plants, Phoebe," Sid informed her, his thumb jutted over his shoulder.

Stinky turned back into the plants. "Yeah, come on!" And he disappeared back in between the greens. Sid waved his hand and followed.

Phoebe sighed, looking back and forth between Helga and Harold, knowing what was to come. Deciding an argument was inevitable no matter what she said, she decided that perhaps the best course of action was to hope that Helga would ignore Harold, as she pursued her own assigned project. She followed the other two of her group, thankful that at least they were helping.

The others watched them leave.

"Well?" Helga interrupted the sudden silence.

Harold blinked at her. "Well, what?"

She waved a hand in the direction the other three had gone. "Shouldn't you be following your group?"

Harold thought about it a second. Then slowly, a small smirk began to form on his face. "I don't know…I think maybe I'll go in those caves to look for that creature thing…I heard some of the other groups were going to try."

Rhonda batted Curly away from her, who was suddenly interested in sniffing her hair. "You know perfectly well those dirty old caves are out of bounds."

"Honestly, pink boy. Don't you have _any_ brains?"

"What? Scared?" Harold teased.

Helga scoffed at him. "Hardly. We just have a project to do, and I find my grade more important that proving Gerald's tale to be as tall as his hair."

"I think you're _scared_." Harold leaned right into Helga's face.

Brainy shifted nervously, not liking where he _knew_ it was going to go. Curly was still trying to attach himself to Rhonda's side. "Get _away_ from me, you _freak_!" She cried in repugnance.

"No, _Harold_. I just happen to want to _pass_ this class!"

Curly apparently decided to join in. "We could always study the minerals in the caves."

His only replies were lecherous glares from both females.

Harold went back to smirking at a furious Helga. "Oh come on, Helga. I _dare_ you."

Helga's angry face suddenly melted to one of sarcasm and defiance to defend her pride. "…Fine, Harold, we'll go in. But just to prove that there _is_ no 'Meloss', _and_ that I am not scared of some…_legend_."

Harold grinned in victory.

"What do you mean _we_?" Rhonda snapped.

Helga whirled to her. "You heard me."

"There is no way I am going into some smelly, old cave. These are brand new Caprini boots, and they're one of a kind," Rhonda stated, looking down her nose.

"Sure, Princess," snorted Helga. "After all, we wouldn't want you to ruin your nails."

  
Rhonda looked at her nails and sniffed.

"Think of it," Helga continued, touching an angle she knew Rhonda wouldn't be able to resist. "Proof that the _Meloss_ actually exists. I'll bet Big Bob will have it renamed after him."

"You mean we get to rename it if we find it?" Harold asked. Rhonda wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Helga shrugged, feigning innocence. "Who knows?"

"There is no way the _Lloyd Meloss_ is going to be named after a peasant," Rhonda suddenly said with disdain.

Helga smirked, her own small triumph achieved. "After you, Princess." She then gestured to the mouth of the cave. Rhonda swept by her with her nose in the air.

Helga shook her head. "This oughta be good," she said, and followed Rhonda into the cave.

Brainy and Curly exchanged glances, and then scrambled after them. "Wait for me, my angel!" Curly cried out.

Harold gave a soft snort. Then his face melted to mischievous glee and he went to find his group.

"I am well aware of that," Phoebe muttered under her breath. "In other words, what do you want, Harold?"

Harold looked towards the caves as he saw the figures of Rhonda and Helga disappear into its shadows, and remembered his purpose. "Where's Sid and Stinky?"

"Right behind ya, Harold. We was jus' lookin' 'round the island to see what type of plants there was, and we fell a bit behind," Stinky explained, holding an uprooted premature tree in his hand.

Sid nodded. "Yeah, at least we know which one's the poison ivy this time," he laughed, jabbing Stinky in the shoulder playfully as they both remembered. "So Harold, you bellowed?"

Phoebe then stepped back into the conversation. "Yes, Harold, I believe you wanted to make some sort of proposition concerning our current vegetation study."

Harold scratched his head. "No, actually, I wanted to say something about the project," he admitted.

"Fine Harold," Phoebe sighed in utter exasperation. "Go on."

"What I was going to say is…I think we should move our focus to the caves," Harold said quickly after hesitating. The rest of his group began to protest.

Stinky scratched his head. "Wait a minute fellers, I'm confused. I thought we weren't supposed to be goin' into the caves."

"That's because we're not," Sid confirmed. "Didn't the Legend of Meloss mean anything to you, Harold?" Sid asked, folding his arms. Phoebe, for the moment, was silent as she watched the situation develop.

Harold thought for a while, then said, "Well yeah, but Rhonda's group already made a dare, and they're going in the caves as we speak. I heard them and saw them," Harold said, stretching the truth a little and pointing in the direction of the caves.

Phoebe finally had to exert her authority. "Just because Rhonda's group did something illegal doesn't mean we all have to. If Rhonda jumped off of a bridge…oh, never mind," Phoebe finally relented, as she saw Harold's face contort with confusion. "To be concise, I say we do the right thing and stay out of the caves as we were instructed."

Harold, Stinky and Sid, who had ignored Phoebe up to this point, looked at each other. Harold finally spoke up. "So, once we get into the caves, how are we going to split?" he asked, as the three boys proceeded to walk into the caves, leaving Phoebe alone, maintaining her position.

"Wait guys, come back! Who cares about a stupid dare, don't you want me to get you that 'A' you all wanted so badly on your project? Guys!" Phoebe called out in the loudest voice that she could muster; only in vain as she watched the boys disappear into the caves. Left alone, she had no choice but to follow. "There's not even going to be distinguishable vegetation in there," she complained, after running after the rest of her group in the caves.

"Okay, Princess, you and I go down this one," Helga grunted, flashing the penlight she snagged from Brainy down the passage on the far right. "And Curly, you go with Brainy down that one." She then pointed to the one on the far left, leaving the middle passage alone.

"We're in the cave, isn't it _enough_, Helga?" Rhonda whined slightly. "I think some mud has already smeared my boots."

"For shame, but psycho-boy," she swung the flashlight to Curly show who she was speaking of, "had a point. We can look for minerals in here and they should be _much_ easier to see."

"Buried treasure!" Curly cackled, whipping a large flashlight from seemingly nowhere and dashing down his designated tunnel. Brainy looked at Rhonda and Helga a moment, shrugged with a small wheeze, and then strolled after Curly.

The two girls exchanged glances, and then Rhonda leapt behind Helga, "You have the light, you go first!" She pointed down the shaft.

"How considerate." she snorted, leading the way.

Several minutes later, Harold's group arrived to where Helga's had split up. They had decided on the same idea, to split into groups of two. Harold shifted a hand into his over shirt, producing flashlights.

"You packed flashlights?" Phoebe asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah," Harold returned, handing one to Sid.

Sid grinned, flicking it on and off and swinging it about. "Never go to Elk Island without one!"

They had reached the place where Helga's group had split, preparing to do the same. Phoebe still wondered how Harold had hid the two, large, flashlights. The whole adventure seemed absurd to her…but a little exhilarating, though she dare not admit it to them.

Phoebe turned hers on, accidentally flashing it into Harold's eyes.

"Oooow!"

"Harold! I'm sorry!" she cried, putting a hand to her mouth.

Sid stood a little off to the side. "I wonder which tunnels they went down?"

Stinky walked over to him, peering down the same shaft that Sid shined his light down. "Who knows? How's about we go down this one, while you fellers go down the others."

Phoebe sighed. "There are three shafts in all, Stinky. The odds are against us in that we go down the same ones as the others." She shined her own light down the central gallery.

Harold placed a stick of gum in his mouth and stood beside Phoebe. "It is pretty dark…"

"Let's get this over with…" Phoebe sighed, hoping to find Helga and the others and get out of there before the teachers caught them.

Curly was several yards ahead of Brainy, the flashlight swaying this way and that, shining on dull rocky walls, the color of mud with swirls of slate gray.

Brainy sighed between his wheezing; they were going to find nothing down here.

"Ahoy!" Curly suddenly cried, stopping and pointing the light to the floor.

Brainy caught up, a questioning expression on his face as he peered at the floor.

In the soft dirt, a three-toed footprint was heavily imbedded, with a second one to match.

Rhonda kept her pace behind Helga, peering into the pitch black that was barely invaded by the small penlight. The silence, besides their footsteps and soft breathing, was _not_ helping her feel any better.

Clearing her throat, Rhonda strode up next to Helga, picking up with the best topic she knew. "You know, Helga, I've been meaning to speak with you."

"Should I feel honored?" came her sarcastic reply, pausing to scan the floor again as her foot hit a protruding rock.

Rhonda glared at her in the dark, but decided to ignore the remark. "That hat of yours," she pointed at the blue hat Helga wore, her pigtails barely escaping as well as the bangs Helga had grown a little shaggy compared to their old perfect cut. She didn't let Miriam or Olga do it anymore. "You know, it doesn't match your outfit at all! It's just plain…_tacky_. In fact, you could use a whole make over," she informed her.

Helga sighed in disgust. "Look, Princess, I don't _care_ what is in fashion. I don't _care_ what I look like. All right?" she snapped.

Rhonda huffed. "Well, I _was_ going to offer that I give you a make over for _free_, but if you don't want my expert advice, then fine."

"I'm sure I'm being deprived of the fine arts of modern fashion. Woe is me."

Rhonda propped her hands on her hips as she strolled along. "Someday, that attitude of yours is going to get you into a great deal of trouble, Helga." She paused, and then her hand snatched out. "At _least_ get rid of that _awful_ hat." And she yanked it off.

Helga spun to grab the hat back, dropping the light. It bounced along on the floor for a moment, and then flickered out.

"Rhonda! You-" came Helga's voice in the dark.

Rhonda scoffed from where she stood in the pitch black. Helga had managed to snag the hat back and Rhonda stared into where she thought the other girl was. "It's just a hat, I don't understand why you got so worked up. And now look, we're stuck in the dark."

"Oh, be quiet. I'll find it," Helga snapped, probing the floor with her hands. "But back to the point, don't you _ever_ do that _again_."

"It's not like you still have that stupid…" She paused, squinting her eyes into the shadows as if that would help her to see better considering the current situation. "What _is_ that?"

Helga stuck her fingers between small stones, wincing as her finger stubbed into one. Her other hand shifted, hitting cool metal. "Hah!" she cried, snatching it up and flicking the light on. "What's _what_?" she asked as she stood again.

"That _breathing_ sound? Brainy went off in the-"

Rhonda's voice dwindled as the light landed on iridescent green scales, a pair of eyes glowing red in the darkness, and sets of ivory fangs reflecting the light back at them.

The bloodcurdling screams echoed throughout the entire cavern system, alerting Phoebe, Harold, Stinky, Sid, Curly, and Brainy, who all turned around and ran straight for the cave Helga and Rhonda had meandered down.

Phoebe moved to the front, holding the flashlight out like her fencing sword as if on reflex, her form pulled taught in preparation of any battle that may come. Harold whimpered over by Rhonda, while Curly cackled at seemingly nothing. Helga was pressed against the wall, Brainy standing a few feet away, nearby Sid and Stinky.

"What's going on?" Phoebe managed out, panting slightly.

"We saw it!" Rhonda cried out.

"Saw _what_?" Phoebe asked.

Sid caught on first. "You saw _Meloss_? Boy howdy!" he gasped in a strange mix of fear and excitement.

"No, we saw _your grandma_," Helga snapped, tossing a rock at him. "Of course we saw it!"

"Ow!" he yelped as it hit the side of his head.

"There were scales…and teeth…and…" Rhonda babbled, sniffling. Then she noticed everyone staring at her and stood straight, smoothing her clothes. "I mean…we saw something." Then she jabbed her index finger at the others. "Just remember, I saw it first, so it belongs to the _Lloyds_."

"Then, by all means, go first," Helga told her, grabbing Sid's large flashlight and pressing it into her hands.

"Hey!" Sid cried.

"Wait just a…" Rhonda stated, but she was already being pushed to the front.

Suddenly running steps were heard and they all turned.

"What…happened?" Gerald gasped out, hands on his knees and a small key chain light providing very little illumination in his hand.

"Gerald!" Phoebe ran over to him as he tried to catch his breath.

"Criminy, does _everyone_ carry a flashlight wherever they go?"

Sid moved excitedly closer to the front of the group. "Rhonda saw _Meloss_."

Gerald surveyed the group, Phoebe looking worriedly at him, Curly staring blankly at the wall, Brainy wheezing over by an angry Helga. Then again, Helga always seemed angry, so maybe "agitated" was a better descriptive word. Sid was practically hopping in excitement of proving the unknown, while Rhonda was pale and looked less than thrilled. Harold was still against the wall, Stinky not too far away with his arms dangling at his sides.

He stood straight; a small look to Phoebe in reassurance. "Really?"

"No one's quite sure of what they saw, Gerald. I'm sure the truth will come forth in due time," Phoebe said with a soft smile.

"Then let's find out," Harold said, pushing Sid and Rhonda into the darkness. The others shrugged and followed.

"By the way, Gerald, why are you in these caverns as well?"

He gave a lopsided smile. "I saw the rest of you charge in, and I wanted to either try and convince all of you to come back, or at least, you know, make sure…everyone was okay. I had to find a light, or I would have joined sooner."

Phoebe smiled at him as they strayed in the back.

The tunnels grew deep, and seemingly darker. There was more moisture this far down, and a few had already sneezed or had small shivers from the chill.

"Maybe we should go back, fellers…" Stinky said; having to bend slightly to avoid scraping his head against the ceiling as the walls narrowed.

"No way," Rhonda stated. "I've been forced to go _this_ far, we're not stopping until we've found it."

Phoebe stayed close to Gerald, her arms cupping her elbows, as her expression was one of worry. "I don't understand how what you saw could have moved so far away in such a short period of time…perhaps we should head back. It's been some time…the field trip…" she muttered, her voice slowly fading, as she knew the lot wasn't even listening.

"I wanna go home…" Harold whined.

"Suck it up, you bunch of chuckle heads. It can't be much farther."

Gerald frowned. "I don't know guys. This doesn't seem like a good idea…"

The complaints weighed heavily in the air, but half the group paid them no heed, pushing on, insistent on finding the elusive Meloss.

After another ten minutes of walking, Rhonda stopped, sighing in frustration. "That's it, no more. My feet are tired and undoubtedly my boots are ruined."

Helga gave a defeated sigh. "All this for nothing…"

"Actually, I've been keeping track of any minerals I saw in the walls," Curly informed her.

"…" Helga just stared at him, not sure of what to reply with.

Brainy gave a loud wheeze of weariness, letting himself fall back to lean on a wall. As he leaned backwards, he realized that where the wall should be…was no wall and he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

They swung their lights towards him. "Brainy," They all sighed.

"Can't you watch where you're going?" Helga snapped.

"Uh…sorry…" he managed out sheepishly, sitting up, and rubbing a now sore arm.

Phoebe light strayed up from where Brainy was recollecting himself. "…" After a pause, she walked forward. She stepped around Brainy and continued moving onward.

The others watched in silence. "Another tunnel?" Harold whined, trudging after her.

"No!" Phoebe said; her voice tinged with excitement. "I think it's a large…room of sorts," she said, deciding to spare her fellow classmates of the technical terms. "These sometimes occur in caves such as these."

"Maybe it's the place where those fellers kept them counterfeit pennies," Stinky said, following Harold, remembering a time from long ago when they had searched for another Urban legend amongst the caves.

"Counterfeit pennies…that was the _stupidest_ thing I…" And yet again that day, someone's sentence was cut off and followed by several screams.

Lights flickered on to show several costumed teenagers sitting around a table, cards strewn about as well as papers, unused costumes, and several props.

Gerald pushed ahead of them, recognizing most of what was there. "The King Rules," he read off the cover of a book he had gingerly lifted. "I haven't played this game in years."

"_They're_ Meloss?" Sid shrieked, pointing at the small group of costumed card players. There were maybe six in all. "Ahh! Cannibals!" He scrambled behind Stinky.

"I'm confused, fellers. Where's the prehistoric reptile-like creature we were supposed to find?" Stinky drawled, scratching his head.

"There isn't one." Rhonda stuck her chin out in a cross of vague irritation at the wasted adventure as well as to show her 'authority', had she any.

The one dressed like a king stood. "What are you doing here?" he snapped, his shaggy blonde hair bouncing slightly.

"They're the ones I told you about!" a boy said, excitedly pointing at Rhonda and Helga, earning glares. He was dressed in a scaly dinosaur suit, of sorts, rough brown hair poking from around the reptilian mask, a small tooth protruding from his upper lip in much the same fashion as one did from Harold's lower lip.

One of the only two girls there peered questioningly, her curly red hair surrounding her face as she wore an old fashioned dress. "They don't look like ghosts or thieves to me."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Helga asked them.

They all exchanged glances, but the other girl, wearing a tall ponytail and a princess outfit, shot back the same question. "Shouldn't _you_ be in school?"

"Actually, we're currently engaging in an academic field study of Elk Island," Phoebe piped up.

Harold broke the tension with a sudden outburst. "This is so cool! Can I borrow it?" He stood apart from his group and held up a set of cheap Knight's armor.

"Harold!" Helga growled out.

"I'm sorry, Harold, but I'm afraid that won't be possible," came an authoritative voice.

All fifteen teenagers yelped and looked to where Brainy had fallen in. A dark figure stood there, hiding behind a powerful flashlight. The shadow chuckled slightly, and then the light was snapped off to reveal the art teacher, who sometimes doubled as the computer teacher. Mrs. Kaiote smirked in a way that most adults save for reckless children that only remind them of themselves. "You've been gone for quite sometime. The field trip was over and we noticed a few missing heads. Park saw all of you enter the caves." One hand snapped to point down the direction she had just come. "_Out_."

The students groaned, filing out and the teacher was greeted with glares, sighs, and a slightly relieved glance from Phoebe. Sid complained that they never found Meloss. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. As her students filed out, she glanced back into the room where the students from some other high school whistled, feigning innocence.

She gave a fierce look, still pointing. "You too. As soon as we figure out what school you're from, we'll be calling your principal. Honestly, skipping school to play _cards_…getting reporters all worked up thinking mythical creatures exist…" She clicked her tongue as the last one, a boy wearing a joker's suit, left the room. "Kids these days."

Mrs. Sandler looked up from her stack of papers. "Okay, then..." she trailed off after a group finished a not-so-impressive report about wildlife. "Um, Helga, Rhonda, Brainy and Curly are next."

"We'd better get a good grade on this, Helga," Rhonda stated matter-of-factly. "Because if we don't…"

Helga interrupted. "Pipe down, princess, and let me do the talking." With that, she strode out into the front of the science room, the rest of her group behind her. Straightening her papers, Helga looked up at the class. "Our project was over minerals on Elk Island," she began. "And of course, there are many minerals. Identifying them was kind of hard, but, well, we managed."

Curly piped up. "SO GIVE US EXTRA CRED--" Brainy and Rhonda covered his mouth before he could finish. Sighing, Helga continued.

"Anyway, as with most everywhere else you go, there was plenty of Calcite, another name for lime. We also found some iron, of course, quartz. We discovered that there really aren't any rare minerals on Elk Island." Helga turned around to face her group. "Right?" 

"Oh yes" Rhonda exclaimed.

Brainy managed to wheeze an "uh huh". The two still had a death grip over Curly's mouth.

Mrs. Sandler, who had been taking notes on their presentation, capped her pen. "Very good. Is there anything else special you learned?"

Rhonda looked down at her shoes. "No ma'am."

"Um, no!" Helga answered nervously, "Just another boring school project."

Mrs. Sandler smiled, "How about you, Curly?" she asked, motioning for Brainy and Rhonda to let him speak. They glanced at each other, and then slowly and almost regretfully, let him go.

Curly smiled broadly, "I learned that some rocks have gas!" he noted, and then ran out of the room.

Helga sat on the dock, the sun setting brilliantly in west. The weather was still warm, the breeze only beginning to chill. Sheena's uncle Earl was puttering about in the lack, heading to places she could only guess.

Pausing to let the smallest of smile show, Helga set her poem book aside and picked up a larger one, flipping it open. The pen paused at the top of the paper and she looked up to peer at Elk Island.

It sat in the same place it always had, the trees barely moving in the breeze that was beginning to wilt.

Looking back down at the notebook, she lost herself in memories and the promise of tomorrow.

__

"Dear Arnold,

Hey there, football head!

As usual, most of us couldn't avoid getting into mischief and we went chasing after another of Gerald's tall tales of Urban Legends. I'm sure you remember the last time we all went in the caves on Elk Island.

This time, we were going after some prehistoric creature. Can't say I believed in it. The dinosaurs are long gone and it's not like any would survive around here, doi.

Before I tell you all about it, I need to ask a strange question…do you carry a flashlight wherever you go? I mean Criminy, everyone else seems to…

I'll explain later…"

Written By: Old Betsy  
  
Edited By: The Five Avengers  
  
Directed By: Nicole K., Chinyere, and Miss Matched  
  
Produced By: Nicole K.  
  
Based on characters created by Craig Bartlett  
  
Most characters are privately owned by such parties as Nickelodeon, Viacom, etc. and are used without permission, but not without respect. 


	3. Blackout

The tenth grade homeroom was abuzz with the news.

"I'm telling you," said Gerald, "my man Fuzzy Slippers is never wrong. This is going to be one of those super wide screen theaters with surround sound. Just like the one at Dinoland!"

Phoebe Hyerdahl smiled shyly. "The curved shape of the screen and strategic positioning of the speakers create the illusion that you are actually experiencing what is happening on the screen," she said.

"I reckon this fancy schmancy theater is just about the coolest thing since they re-paved the parking lot," added Stinky.

Helga glared at him briefly. "All I can say is, about time something exciting happened in this town."

"So where did you say this theater was going to be?" asked Sid.

Gerald pointed out the window. "Right downtown, past city hall."

Phoebe frowned in consternation. "That seems like a most unlikely location for a theater with such high energy requirements," she said thoughtfully.

"Are you crazy? That's perfect!" shouted Harold. "Just imagine, a reason to actually go downtown."

Phoebe shook her head. "A theater like that requires more than the usual amount of electricity. The multiple sound speakers, the enhanced energy field needed to feed the projection booth, and the proper wiring to integrate everything could potentially create a power surge in the local area."

"What in the heck is that supposed to mean?" Stinky inquired, scratching his head.

"I think she means a Black Out." Harold grinned broadly. "Wow, we haven't had one of those in like…forever! If one happened I'd…"

"You'd what?" Rhonda paused in reapplying her make up to ask.

He thought about it a moment. "I'd…I don't know, but it would be really great!"

Helga rolled her eyes impatiently. "Oh, who cares, Pink Boy? Besides, Pheebs, it's too early for all this brainiac stuff. Come on, let's grab our seats before the Warden gets here," she said, referring to their homeroom teacher.

"Coming," said Phoebe, following her friend to their desks.

The school bell rang at the end of the school day, several hours later. The usual conversation with Phoebe, occasional small argument with Harold, a shove of a kid or two, and Helga was on her way home. She flung the door to her house open and found she wasn't surprised. Instead of being greeted by her parents and sister, she was greeted by noise.

"Big Bob's Beepers, he's the man!

Big Bob sells beepers like no one else can!"

She peeked her head into the family room, where lo and behold, Bob was watching his new beeper commercial.

"Buy them today, buy them now, 

Big Bob's Beepers, Holy Cow!"

He sang along, waving his fingers in the air as he did so. "Ah, another great commercial," he mumbled under his breath. Helga scoffed, turning to the kitchen. Miriam had the blender on at the highest speed possible, and was watching her carrots, blue berries, and mushy white tofu blend together into a tan-ish substance.

"That'd better not be dinner," Helga moaned to herself, taking another look at the spinning liquid. Miriam, oblivious to her daughter watching her, loaded the toaster with bread, mumbling something about the new "Health and Wellness" recipe being harder to make then it had seemed. Ascending the stairs, Helga noted another noise, perhaps the worse of them all.

"Still, I guess I'm hopin' for your to stop your mopin'

And get on up and walk up to me..."

Plugging her ears slightly, Helga stood outside of Olga's door, watching with a bit of disgust as she danced around and sang to a song on the radio.

"Keeping my affections and my own introspection

Directed on setting you free."

Olga sang slightly above the notes that the radio artist performed. She spun around a few times, and picked up a brush.

"For Pete's sakes, Olga, can you sing any quieter?" Helga shouted at Olga, who was obviously too into the song to notice.

"So that's why I keep on waitin' while you go on restat---"

Helga shut Olga's door with a satisfying slam, clapping her hands to brush away invisible dust. She then strolled into her own room. Grabbing the pink book that was on her desk and a pen, she sat down cross-legged on her bed. She opened up the book to its first empty page, and sat, pen poised, about to write.

"And I try, 

You can't say you've never seen me 

from the corner of your eye. 

Can I..."

The sound of Miriam's blender still was loud from where she was sitting, and the bass from Olga's radio was still booming away. Bob had evidently turned his TV up to drown out the other two sounds. "How the heck am I supposed to write like this?" Helga groaned, frustrated. Sighing, she put her pen back to the paper.

"Can I come up to you?

And ask you how your day was?

Can you humor me---"

Her pen scrawled out a wavy line after that as she heard Miriam's oven timer go off. It beeped shrilly; did she even know that it was sounding? Growling, Helga picked a pillow up from the head of her bed, and placed it tightly over her ears. She took a deep, calming breath, and tried writing again.

"As I try to find my way

To the corner of your mind

And to the corner of your heart.

The little place where I wa--"

Someone on the TV downstairs screamed at the exact same time that Olga hit a very high note along with her radio. Miriam must have fallen asleep downstairs, because the timer was still beeping away.

"CAN'T EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP?" Helga screamed, frustrated. Only a moment after that, the lights went out.

Helga ran down the steps in the darkness, trying to peer into the shadows for her parents.

"How in the heck am I supposed to watch my commercials if the power decides to go out?" Helga had no doubt Big Bob was frantically waving his arms as he sat in his chair.

Reaching the bottom step, she suddenly tripped and fell onto her face with a loud "Oof!"

Olga jumped over her head then, wailing loudly. "Daddy! Mummy!"

Groaning, Helga sat up.

"Calm down, Olga. Miriam, where are the fuses?"

Miriam bumped into Helga as she made her way to the front door, both toppling down this time. "Sorry, Helga," Miriam muttered quickly, pulling herself up and opening the door.

"Don't tell me we don't have any!" Big Bob hollered; assuming Miriam was going to run to the store.

"No, no, daddy. We have some in the kitchen pantry." Olga squeaked, spinning on her heel to go get them, only ramming straight into Helga and both kissed the carpet.

"Criminy!" Helga shoved her sister off of her. "Don't any of you watch where you're going?"

Olga scrambled up, dusting off her knees. "I'm sorry, baby sister." She said quickly, and made her way to the pantry. "I can't see at all!"

"Actually," Miriam stated over the ruckus from her position by the open door. "I think the whole neighborhood is out."

Startled for a second time that day, Big Bob and Olga came over to peer outside. Helga was rubbing a sore elbow and curling into the corner of the couch, not bothering a glance outdoors. "Great," she muttered.

The others came back in, the door clicking softly shut behind them as the dim lighting outside was shut off. "A black out!" Olga squealed almost with delight. "We haven't had one of those in a while!"

"I'll go get the candles," Miriam piped in, and moved back into the deeper gloom.

"Just think," Olga's voice rose slightly with excitement. "With no electricity to distract us, we can have some family time!"

"Family time? What about my commercials? My meat and potatoes?" Big Bob eased himself back into his chair, promptly propping his chin into his hand while his elbow rested on the chair's arm. "What in the heck am I supposed to eat if there's no power to cook with?"

"We can always toast bread over a candle and use slices of cheese to make grilled cheese sandwiches." Helga said sarcastically, her hands out in front of her as if adding more expression to the words. Big Bob and Olga decided to ignore her.

Miriam came back with a handful of candles, a single one already lit and giving a dim glow to the room. Olga and Big Bob's faces were dull red in the deeper shadows, Miriam's lit in shades of orange and yellow. "I'm sorry, B, but dinner will have to wait until the power comes back." She also set down two flashlights and went off in search of new batteries.

"And how long can that be, daddy? Can't we at least play cards or something?"

Helga snorted from her dark corner. "Oh, no. I am _not_ taking part in some 'family togetherness' card game."

"I can't believe I'm stuck taking part in some 'family togetherness' card game." Helga sighed, collecting the cards Olga was passing to her as she sat down after getting a glass of water.

"Hey, hey, missy. If I have to, so do you," Big Bob grunted. He snatched the card Olga served him not a moment after it hit the table.

"The great logic of the beeper king." She shifted the cards in her hand, matching numbers and colors appropriately.

"What was that?" He snapped as Olga gave the last card to herself, and then placed the unused cards in the middle of the table.

"Nothing," she said with a mock perk.

Miriam looked over at Olga. "Since I'm on your left, I go first?"

"That's right!" She gave her mother a smile, fiddling with her own cards. Three candles were lit between the four of them and Helga had to lean towards Bob in order to see what was in her hand. He looked at her shiftily, and then leaned away thinking she was going to peek at his hand.

Miriam adjusted her glasses. "Well, if you say so dear." Olga flipped the top card, a green three, and sat it next to the deck. Miriam glanced at her cards, and then placed down a red three, feeling slightly proud.

Helga slapped down a "pick up two" red card with a devilish grin at Big Bob.

Her father looked at the rest of them, and then looked at his cards. He then placed down a yellow "pick up two card" and smiled broadly.

"No, no, daddy!" Olga said with a small click of her tongue, removing the yellow card and handing it back to him.

"What? It said the same thing!"

Olga giggled. "No, you have to pick up two cards, and _then_ you can put that one down."

"Why can't I put it down and make you pick up _four_?" He asked; his voice was tinged with agitation as he pulled the two top cards.

His eldest daughter put a finger to her mouth in thought. "I suppose that would make the game more interesting…but I don't think that's part of _Solo_'s rules."

"Whatever." He slapped down the yellow card again, with half the enthusiasm as before. "Pick up two cards and get on with it."

Olga smiled again, picking up two and then placed a yellow seven down.

Miriam stared at her cards for a minute, chewing her lip.

"Come on, mom!" Helga sighed and then took a sip of water from her glass.

"Okay, okay…but what do I do when I don't have any sevens or yellows?"

Olga leaned over to peer at her mother's cards. She scanned the hand, and then gasped happily. "Use that one!" She pointed to the second to last card.

Miriam blinked, and then set down a black card with a large white 'W'. "Um…what's it mean?"

"It's a wild." Helga explained impatiently. "It means you get to pick a new color."

Her mother looked back at her own hand, paused, and then smiled. "I choose red."

Helga smirked again, slapping down a red card with a large 'R'.

Big Bob looked at it quizzically, and then placed a red five. Olga immediately began to giggle. "No, daddy! That card means "reverse". It's mom's turn now." She took the card off the top and gave it back to her father.

Big Bob growled softly under his breath. He looked at his hand while Miriam placed down a red "one". He noticed how many cards he had compared to the others and frowned, turning to glare at Helga. "You're purposely trying to make me lose, aren't you?" he snapped.

"That's kind of the point, _Dad_," she chuckled.

"Hey, missy!"

Olga shook her head. "Calm down, daddy. There's plenty of time to win." She looked at her cards and then winced. "I don't have any reds or ones…" Sighing as if placing the next card took a great deal of effort, Olga set down another card with a black background and a large, white, 'W'. Only this card stated, "pick up four" at the top and bottom. "I choose blue. I'm sorry, Daddy, but you'll need to pick up four."

"What!" He roared, slapping his cards to the table and sending a candle toppling over. "What kind of game is this?"

"Daddy!" Olga cried, pointing rapidly. "Your cards are on fire!"

"Oh dear!" Miriam put her hands to her cheeks.

"Mother of _Pearl_!"

Helga frowned and grabbed her glass. "Calm down you bunch of sissies." She then splashed the water at the fire, putting it out.

Only, she also splashed plenty over her father.

"Now, B…"

Olga sighed; as yet another game attempt had failed. "Well, that sure didn't work," she admitted, as she flopped to the ground in frustration. A board of "Mystery" lay on the center table, pieces and cards strewn all over the place.

Miriam looked from face to face by the light of the candle, pulling at the hem of her shirt as a nervous habit. Helga sunk back into indifference once the last game ended, and Bob began to glance compulsively at the television set, as if at any minute it were due to come on. After a few moments of silence, Olga came up with another idea.

"Uh, I have the _perfect_ idea for a game…Daddy, can you be a dear and hand me that flashlight?" Olga requested as Bob wordlessly reached across the room and handed Olga the flashlight. Olga then leapt and bound into the hallway, where she could be heard rummaging through the coat closet.

Helga raised her eyebrow as she heard the sounds and sunk further into her seat. "Oh great, another one of _Olga's_ ingenious plans for family togetherness. Just what I need," she muttered under her breath, glaring off into the distance.

Within a moment, Olga returned with a board game tucked under her arm. "Mommy, Daddy, remember when I was younger and we always used to play this when it was rainy outside and one of my concerts was cancelled due to the weather?" Olga asked, enthusiastically holding out a game of Scramble for the whole family to see.

This stimulation allowed Miriam, who was beginning to slump again, to perk up. "Oh yes, I sure do honey. Ugh, but it's been so long…I don't think we've played it since Helga was old enough to play with us," Miriam remembered, scooting closer to the corner where Olga sat and laid out the Scramble board.

"Thankfully," Helga murmured, rolling her eyes at the thought of playing Scramble alone with her parents after Olga moved away.

"What was that, sweetie?" Miriam asked of Helga as she helped Olga set up the board.

"Nothing, Mom."

Olga then looked to Helga and Bob, who had not moved from their spots on the couch and who were staring blankly into space. "Oh come on Daddy and Helga, don't be sillies. This game will be fun," Olga coaxed, eventually persuading Bob to join the game, which was being set up on the floor in a corner of the room with candles. "Come on, baby sister, you can sit right here, next to me." Reluctantly, Helga groaned and took a seat next to her sister, who then embraced her tightly before passing the bag of letters and reading the instructions.

The game started out orderly enough, but conditions quickly deteriorated after it wore after the first few minutes.

"B-E-E-P…there we have it…beep. That's 20 points for me," Big Bob said, reaching into the letters bag to supplement the two letters he had used to form the word. Helga, who was in charge of keeping score, held a candle to the Scramble board and looked at the placing of the letters.

"Uh, not so fast, _Dad_. You can't make that word legally. You have to try again," she said flatly, pointing to the two letters Bob placed.

Bob, who had been progressively losing his patience through the entire game, began a low grumble that could be heard as he spoke. "And why, may I ask, is that not legal?" he asked calmly through his clenched teeth.

Miriam, also noticing Bob's flaw, stepped in. "Well, B, when you put this e down, it made the word 'firee,' which we all know is not a word," she pointed out.

Bob, by this time, was enraged. "Well, how am I supposed to make any decent words with all vowels for crying out loud!"

Helga put down the score pad and held a candle to the board and watched as hot wax dripped upon some of the letters. "Well, I see two places where you could have put two E's, Dad. And it didn't take me _thirty _minutes to do it, either," Helga jeered spitefully, taking the two letters Bob had placed off of the board and giving them back to him.

"It would _help_ if maybe we had a little more light in here, so maybe I could actually see the board," Bob protested, beginning to develop a whine in his voice. "Man, and to think I could be watching the wheel right now…"

Olga, who had remained silent as she arranged her letters on her game piece, looked to her father. "Now Daddy, you know as well as I do how impossible that is, since the power is out," she commented, chuckling at her father before returning to her letters.

Miriam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, B. According to my book, _Living Spiritual_, watching television only builds up a perpetual independence on it, and it can only be detrimental to your health," Miriam paraphrased from her book. While Helga looked at Miriam in amazement of what she had just said and Olga smiled pleasantly, it was then Bob's turn to mutter under his breath.

Helga was growing as impatient as her father was. "Why don't you take a pass, Dad, while we're young?"

"Okay, okay. Criminy! I pass," he finally shouted, scooting away from the board and crossing his arms indignantly.

Olga then clapped giddily. "Oh goodie, then, it's my turn," she squealed excitedly, as she began to lay her letters on the board. "There we are…F-I-A-S-C-O." Olga smiled after making the single best move that could be made on the board.

"Fiasco, huh? Is that enough irony for you, Olga?" Helga asked. Olga ignored her as she grinned widely at her word choice.

Miriam leaned forward and counted up the points. "Triple letter on the F, triple word on the whole thing. What does the score add up to, Helga?" 

Helga sighed after she calculated the score that Olga had earned for her word. "Enough to put the rest of us out of the game, that's for sure," Helga said, throwing the score pad behind her back and sighing. "Well, game's over. Looks like we can all go back to our normal spots and stare into space until the power comes back and we can get on with our lives," Helga said cynically, returning to her seat.

"Now Helga, don't you want to join me and your sister and father for another game? I'm sure it will be fun," Miriam said enthusiastically, although her enthusiasm had become slightly sour as the night progressed.

Bob got up from the floor and stretched before returning to his seat in front of the television. "I don't know if I can take any more of this myself, on an empty stomach without seeing my commercials in over an hour. I'm with the girl on this one," Bob said, sitting back with Helga on the couch as Miriam and Olga picked up the pieces of the game.

"Oh, don't worry Daddy. You either, baby sister. I'm sure there's something else we can play," Olga said, somewhat disappointed yet still chipper throughout the entire situation. "The night is young and we are still yet to burn out our candles."

Several more games were dug out from under years of dust, and each of which eventually became disasters.

Out of board games, card games, or any other type of boxed family toy, the Patakis sat around the living room in silence again. Miriam's eyelids drooped, threatening a nap. Big Bob was turned from them all, glaring at the TV as if willpower alone would turn it back on. Olga sat chewing her lip on one side of the couch, deep in thought for ideas.

Helga sat on the opposite side, staring into oblivion and wishing she could take a candle and go to her room to write. Big Bob wouldn't let her, saying she wasn't old enough to handle fire without permission, even when she reminded him that she was fifteen. He wouldn't let her take a flashlight either, saying all batteries should be saved…for him, most likely.

Suddenly, Olga leapt from her spot on the couch, slapping a fist into her hand. "I know something else we can do! We can play charades!" she exclaimed. "It would give us all a chance to get closer as a family!"

Helga rolled her eyes. _Like Big Bob would ever agree to play charades_, she thought.

"I think that is a great idea," Miriam piped up. Her eldest daughter beamed at her.

"Why don't you go first, Olga," Helga said.

As usual, Olga was oblivious to her sibling's sarcasm. "Thanks, Baby Sister," she said. "Let me think of something." She wrinkled her brow in concentration.

After a pause, she smiled. "OK, I have it!"

"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" asked Miriam.

"That's Twenty Questions, Miriam," Helga pointed out.

Olga smiled at her mother benevolently, and then held up two fingers.

"That's a V," Bob guessed.

Helga slapped herself in the forehead. It was going to be a long night. "No, BOB, that means there are two words."

"Yeah, two words," Bob repeated.

Olga nodded and then held up one finger.

"I thought there were TWO words," Bob complained.

Helga gritted her teeth. "FIRST word," she began.

Olga tapped two fingers on her arm.

"Arm!" Bob said, unwilling to be shown up by his youngest daughter. Olga shook her head and tapped two fingers on her forearm again.

"Fingers!" Bob said, glancing at Helga for confirmation.

Helga sank deeper into the armchair. As far as she was concerned, this game could continue without her.

The game continued like this for some time, with Bob guessing words like skin and shirt before Miriam finally decided to rejoin the game.

"Two syllables," she said firmly.

Olga clapped her hands happily.

Bob scowled in Miriam's direction. Olga was continuing to pantomime something, and Miriam said, "First syllable," followed by "Moon" and then "Second syllable."

Olga gestured to the candle.

"Candle?" said Bob.

"Oh, I get it, light," Miriam said. "Moonlight."

"Light? Light? You call this light? This is not light! This is a nightmare!" Bob roared impatiently.

Olga's eyes started to glisten with unshed tears.

"This is not a nightmare," she sniffled. "This is a chance for us all to get closer -" she began.

"This is STUPID!" Bob yelled.

"I can't believe you won't give this a chance," Olga cried.

"Well how am I supposed to figure this out without any meat and potatoes in my belly!" he roared.

"The beeper king has spoken," Helga pushed herself out of the chair. She then walked towards the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going, missy?" her father asked.

Helga turned and graced him with a cold look before climbing the stairs to her bedroom.

"Baby sister?" whispered Olga. She turned to face her parents. "Mommy, Daddy, I can't believe you don't think this is a special time for families to try and bond- " she broke off as she ran out of the room crying.

"Oh for cryin' out loud," Bob said in exasperation. "Miriam, isn't there anything to eat in this house?" 

As Helga made it to the top of the steps, she heard her mother ask, "B, what was the last word?" just before he stomped out of the room and headed for the kitchen.

Furious and agitated, Big Bob grabbed the counter's edge and leaned against it. He stared, unseeing, at the plugged in blender with the tan liquid, water settling at top due to the fact it had been left standing. The button for blending was still depressed and he grit his teeth at it. The day's events had been insane, and his family was driving him down the same road.

He paused as a thought came to mind. Then a slow smile spread his lips. "What if I came home from work one day, and they were gone? Heh..."

In his mind's eye, he could see himself in front of the TV, a schedule in one hand, and a remote in the other. He looked down at the paper, studying it carefully. "All right, so my commercial's playing in two minutes on channel five, then five minutes later on channel eight... What am I waiting for?" He flipped on the TV to channel five with a smile on his face. The sound didn't have to be turned up to loud, as it wasn't competing with Miriam making dinner or any of the girls making any noise up in their rooms. The opening strings to his commercial played, and a row of ladies in red and orange body suits came on screen, huge smiles plastered onto their made up faces. 

"Big Bob's Beepers, he's the man!

Big Bob sells beepers like no one else can!

Buy them today, buy them now, 

Big Bob's Beepers, Holy Cow!"

They all looked down in unison at the beepers that were strapped to their sides as they began to ring. They then looked back up, cheesy smiles still intact. "Big Bob's Beepers!"

Bob smiled to himself, mentally patting himself on the back for thinking up such a great commercial. Okay, so maybe he didn't write it or stage it, but it was about him, and he paid for it. Looking back down at his schedule, he flipped to the next channel on the list.

This went on for about an hour, and the jingle he thought he could never get enough of was grating on his nerves. He threw the channel changer against the wall, and the TV mercifully turned off. "Well," he thought to himself, "There's plenty more things I can do without the ladies here to bother me." Just then, his stomach rumbled. "Oh, mother of pearl! How the heck am I supposed to get any grub around here?!" he groaned. "The Beeper King NEEDS, no, REQUIRES his meat and potatoes!"

Harold, Sid, and Stinky met each other in the park, grinning like maniacs. "The power is out! Boy howdy, this hasn't happened since that incident with Eugene when we visited the power company on a school field trip!" Sid readjusted his cap as he said this, sweating a little from the run.

"Oh man, that was so funny!" Harold cackled. As soon as the lights had gone out, all three had called each other with plans in mind.

Stinky laughed as well. "His hair was sticking up straight fer a week!"

"Man…" Sid sighed, leaning against a tree. "So what do we do now?"

"I dunno," Harold said, sitting on the ground and fiddling with a few blades of grass.

Stinky still towered over them, leaving heavy, dark shadows in the dim light the sunset provided. "Well, fellers, I got an idea…"

"What, go to Slaucen's? I'm kind of hungry," Harold whined and held his stomach.

"Nah!" Stinky took his hands out from behind his back, two large packs of twelve toilet paper rolls each dangling from his fingers. "I think we ought to raze the neighborhood."

The other two hopped to attention, cheering loudly.

"And I have the _perfect_ house in mind…" Harold said, grinning.

Sitting alone in what had been the wreckage of family togetherness, Miriam, in her newly found meditative state, began to imagine what life would be like without her family.

Miriam then found herself lounging in an outdoor hot tub with a glass of lemonade and smooth jazz playing in the background under a starry sky in the light of the moon. She was instantly soothed by the sounds of the music and the mood of the landscape, basking in the air bubbles from the Jacuzzi and bathing in her own beauty in the light of the moon. She giggled girlishly to herself as she sat and watched the moisture on her lashes drip from her eyes from the tub. She sat in idleness for a little while longer before she finally spoke.

"Ah, without Bob and the girls, I am finally allowed peace and relaxation. Ah, it feels so good to unwind," she sighed, letting herself sink deeper into the tub. As if waiting for a response, she paused a little before she laughed quietly to herself and continued talking. "You know, now, there are so many things that I can do, by myself, that I could never do before. Like…" Miriam began, trying to think of what new and exciting things she would do by herself.

"Well, there was always helping B and the Beeper Emporium…well, that's no good," she said, realizing that this was not a task that she could do alone. "I always wanted to visit Olga in…no. Well, there was that time I wanted to make a dress for Helga when she gets…oh no." Miriam paused because she realized that, outside of her family, there was nothing else she'd rather do, nowhere else she'd rather be, at the moment.

"And…wait a minute, who exactly am I talking to here?" she asked. She waited for a response, but none ever came. "Wow…without them, no one listens to me," she concluded, getting out of the Jacuzzi and making her way to the back door of her house. She turned at the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn. "Hmm…don't have a key to the house, either," she realized, and then proceeded to knock and yell loudly at the door…

Then, she came out of her meditative state and returned to reality, where she was still sitting in a circle of candles with pieces of old games all over the floor and her family scattered in different parts of the house. She realized then that though she really would rather go off into her own fantasy world and rest away from her family, they were too big a part of her life to avoid.

"Finally!" Helga huffed, once up in her room. She moved her pink book off of the bed and fell onto the sheets. She stared through the darkness to the ceiling in thought. "Wonder how the boarding house is handling all this."

Grandpa held a flashlight under his protruding chin, his eyes lit brightly compared to the shadows. "And then, when Captain James of Spaceship MARS 2000 looked behind him…" He said in a low tone, his free hand sprawled out towards the boarders as they listened with their breaths held. "A hand came from the darkness and grabbed him!" His hand snapped out as fast as his old muscles would let him. His fingers curled slowly together, popping a few times like elderly joints do.

The boarders gasped loudly, Oscar hugging a stuffed animal. "And what happened then, Grandpa?" He asked, twisting the poor stuffed creature.

"Well, he…you know…"

"My word…what happens?" Mr. Simmons asked, wringing his hands.

"He kicked the bucket and bought the farm!" Grandma chirped suddenly, not helping the spooky image any by appearing through the darkness behind Grandpa in Knight's armor and a large, stained axe. Her eyes glittered dangerously in the meager light the flashlight provided. "Dinner is served!" And she placed a large platter of watermelon in the middle of the table. Grandpa and the rest of the boarders groaned loudly.

"Oh…Pookie…"

"Eat up, Slim. Tomorrow the neighboring kingdom looks to take ours…prepare for battle at dawn!" Cackling, she moved back into the dim kitchen that flickered a dull red from a single candle.

Grandpa held his protesting stomach, the flashlight making the watermelon glisten as he focused on it. "Oh…"

Oscar dove right in, but spoke around a mouthful much to Suzie's exasperation. "So, Grandpa…what happened to Spaceman James, Captain of the Spaceship MARS 2000…?"

Shaking her head, Helga decided they were probably blaming the power outage on the fuses in the basement and grandpa was most likely furiously changing each one, the boarders complaining about the dark. 

"Peace and quiet," She murmured to herself. "If only it could be like this ALL the time." Closing her eyes, she imagined what it would be like. 

She could just see it. Home alone. No one to bother her while she was trying to write poems or letters to her beloved, no one to annoy her while she was trying to do her homework. No more being called by the wrong name and getting Bob his sodas. In her dream, she looked around her room. With no worries of anyone intruding on the privacy of her room, her Arnold collection had come out of the closet. His school pictures lined the walls, drawings of him pinned up around the windows. Her pink books stood out proudly on her desk, a purple pen marking the place where she should write next. With a wide grin, she snatched up the book and the poems began to flow out of her without distraction. But all too soon, she had run out of space in her book.

"Oh great." She moaned to herself, "And no money to get a new one. Well, I can just mooch off of Miriam..." she trailed off. That was right, she wasn't there in this dream. "Now what can I do?" she asked herself as she lay on top of her bed. The silence that she had so adored before was now awful. Maybe constant peace and quiet wasn't all it cracked up to be?

Winding one of the smaller rolls between the pickets of a fence, Sid looked up at the progress of the house. Harold and Stinky were busy tossing rolls over the tree. Several sheets decorated the stoop and trailed about the yard. Four lines lead to the backyard that was twice as bad, almost completely white.

"Man, I hope it rains tonight," Harold cackled as he threw the roll over the top of the tree and back towards Stinky.

His tall friend laughed. "I know. It always gets all mushy and it's so dang hard to clean up.''

"Yeah, it turns into little tiny clumps," Sid stated, wrapping the last of the roll heavily at the last support pole, placing the cardboard role on one of the pointed tips.

"I got another four packages saved up in the attic at home," Stinky informed them as they grabbed the last four rolls.

Sid looked at him strange, taking one of the rolls. "Why do you have so many?"

"I bought them all some weeks ago, was stocking up for Halloween," Stinky drawled, unwrapping the first layer of sheets.

Harold held two, laughing as they both bounced to the ground. "That's a great idea! I'll start buying extra and saving up with the money I get for working for Mr. Green."

"Really? Boy howdy, this Halloween is going to be great!"

"Hey!" came a man's voice. The three boys yelped and made a run for it.

Olga sat in her room, crying. Her hands were pressed to her face as the tears dripped between her fingers and she had no doubt her mascara was running. She really should get some waterproof make up.

Sniffling, she looked to the ceiling. "Why can't they at least _once_ try to work together a family? To bond and grow as one!" She stood, rivers still streaming over her cheeks. Her hands flailed dramatically in the air as she spoke. "Daddy, and Mummy, and Baby Sister…they don't even really try!"

She sat back down, falling back onto her bed as her lower lip trembled.

Then…dare she think it…what if she moved far away and they didn't know about it? What if she broke off from her family? What if she tried to make it on her own?

She could do it, she knew she could.

With another sniff, she closed her eyes and imagined a life without her family.

The lights were bright and hot and she opened her eyes to the crowd before her. She had been playing Violetta in "La Traviata". The curtains rose after the play ended and Olga stood in front of the rest of the crew members, bowing extravagantly as if she had stolen the show with her incredible talent.

There was a standing ovation. Several people in the audience still had tears in their eyes from the dramatic ending of her death scene at her lover, Alfredo's, feet.

Blowing kisses, she and the rest of the stage members disappeared behind the falling curtain and she pranced off towards her dressing room. Suddenly, the Director, Steve Viksten, stopped her. "Olga, my dear. A word?"

"Why, certainly!"

He stared at her momentarily, as if the what he was going to say was difficult. "Olga…you are a very talented actress…"

"Why, thank you Mr. Viksten!"

"…But I'm afraid this was your last stage performance under my direction."

She gasped, her hands to her mouth. "You're leaving us? Oh, Mr. Viksten! You were a wonderful director and we'll be sure to miss you-"

He frowned at her. "Olga, you're the one leaving, not me."

She stared, shocked. Slowly, tears welled up in the actress's eyes. "But…why?"

He sighed, holding his clipboard to his side. "You see, as I've said, you're a wonderful actress…but we have others who deserve places on stage. You steal the show from all the others, leaving even the best of them unrecognized, and yet you're going nowhere. It's as other directors are afraid you're at the top of your game now, and it'll be all downhill from here. Still, the others deserve their chances and…I'm sorry, Olga." He reached to put a hand on her shoulder, but she burst into full-fledged tears and ran to her dressing room.

Later, she drove home with the small box of her belongings next to her. She left, hearing Mr. Viksten assure her there were plenty of other positions open. Reaching the apartment building she lived in, she used a key to open the front doors, and then made her way up the steps, box tucked under arm. Olga then opened her apartment and was startled to find a note had been shoved under her door. Curious, she set the box aside and picked it up. Flipping it open, her face fell as she read the words.

The apartment owner, Tuck Tucker, was at his desk when Olga came flying in, mascara smearing down her face at full force. "Sir!" she cried, but he held a hand up to stop her.

"I don't want to hear it, Olga. You haven't paid me your full rent in three months."

"But, Mr. Tucker, I had to buy…"

He flipped open the newspaper, leaning back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, not even bothering to look at her. "Look, I understand you find your career very important, but I find my own career just as important. You either pay what you owe as well as this month's rent by the thirtieth, or you're out, Olga."

Trudging back to what would soon no longer her place, she sniffled and rubbed one arm with one of her hands, her mind tumbled over itself. "Wait!" She suddenly perked and ran into her apartment, snatching the phone. "I'll call mummy and daddy and ask for help!"

But she stared at the receiver, remembering she was no longer a part of their lives.

As well as the fact her phone was dead, she hadn't paid that bill either.

Come to think of it, she missed her Baby Sister too. She might have kept her from getting into this mess in the first place.

Olga opened her eyes, her lower lip still in the pouting position.

She could never be without her family.

Helga stood alone in the middle of the dark family room. "What, am I going to be the only mature person in this whole household?" she mumbled to herself, crossing her arms. She turned as she heard some sniffling.

Sure enough, Olga had come down from her room. "Oh, Baby Sister!" She exclaimed through a stuffy nose and bleary, tear and mascara stained eyes. "I'm so sorry!" She scooped up her beloved sister into a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm sorry too, girls." Miriam had walked into the room. "We all need to, um, come together in times like this."

"Your mother's right." Bob said from the doorway. They all shared knowing smiles.

A loud, clicking sound was heard, and suddenly light flooded the room. The TV popped back on with a snap, and the blender with a whirr. From upstairs, Olga's radio was blasting another teenybopper song. Miriam left the room slowly, mumbling something about salvaging dinner. Bob gravitated back to the TV, and Helga inched her way out of Olga's hug. "This moment never happened." She told her sister.

Just another day in the Pataki household.

As the family once again went off into their own directions, Helga left the house much the same as she had entered it earlier that evening…unnoticed. She sighed and smirked slightly as she closed the door behind her and descended the steps of her porch, as she was still able to hear her father's beeper commercial, Olga in her room listening to her "happy" music, and Miriam working full blast with the kitchen appliances. Under her arm, appropriately, were her current notebook and a pen, and she walked down the familiar sidewalk towards the bright lights further into the town.

While she strolled with no certain destination in mind, she noticed Sid, Harold, and Stinky running from a strangely familiar man. Their arms flailed as they screamed, toilet paper rolls flying from their outstretched fingers. A stream of sheets airborne from around their arms, shoulders, and legs. Sid even had a square stuck to one of his boots. Apparently some of her fellow classmates had taken advantage of the blackout for pranks.

Helga also passed the boarding house. The lights were still out and she paused in curiosity, wondering if one of their fuses _had_ blown. After a moment, several screams were heard and then Grandpa's cackling.

Ah…an old-fashioned story telling.

Helga decided to press on down the streets, passing a few others she recognized but paid no mind to.

Her mind momentarily left the manners of the home and any other goings on that might have occurred, as it was all overwhelmed by the sound of jazz playing loud from the lobby of the new movie theater that could be heard several blocks away. After a brief intermission by Nocturnal Ned to introduce the next piece, the music occupied her mind more than it had before.

She rounded the corner, following the music, down the familiar curves and bends of her neighborhood, and closed her eyes, letting the music be her guide. She sighed heavily as she walked along, releasing the tension of that day and her ordeal with her family. Then, she opened her eyes and found herself at the Movie Theater, lights blaring brightly and music now louder than ever. At the ticket booth, she purchased a ticket for "Bride of Evil Twin," bought a bag of popcorn, and took her seat in the back row of the air-conditioned theater, leaning her head against the wall.

It was dark when she finally came home. Miriam was asleep on the couch, Big Bob still watching some late night game show. "Oh, for crying out loud! How could you get _that_ wrong?"

Ignoring him, she went upstairs. Olga's door was closed and her music was playing at a lower volume, though she was undoubtedly still prancing about, considering light filtered beneath the small crack.

Turning the cool knob, she went into her room. The sound was dulled inside and she sighed with relief. Making her way to her closet, she smiled at the wooden carving she was trying to make of her beloved. She had decided to give her latest project a rest for a while when the carving tools kept slipping and leaving marks on her fingers. Didn't want anyone getting crazy ideas, after all.

Two books cases were inside, filled to the brim with books of poems. She kept a small statue of her beloved, in whatever was the current medium, near the only other empty wall. Pictures and several things related to her strange-headed muse lined any empty spaces. Carefully, she pulled a small stepladder from behind several hanging outfits, mostly things she'd never wear.

She kicked it open and placed it in the middle of the closet. First, she grabbed a binder full of blank sheets for letters. Then, cautiously, she climbed up the stepladder and popped a small square aside in the ceiling and then scrambled up into the attic.

She had installed several moving lights similar to those in Arnold's old room. She had studied the wiring closely there, and incorporated much the same tactics to her shrine. Why not? It added to the effect that everything here was dedicated to him. So she pulled a similar remote from a small nearby shelf and flicked the lights on. They moved to center on a large statue that she had been adding onto and changing since she was nine. Smiling, she sat amongst her vast collection of worshiped items and pulled her binder into her lap.

Helga clicked her purple pen so the tip poked out and the words flowed easily onto the first blank sheet.

__

"Dear Arnold,

Today was certainly exciting. The power went out and Olga tried her usual 'Family Togetherness' practices. I'll save you most of the details, but I'm sure you remember my family and how things work with them.

Or how things **don't** work…

Sid, Harold, and Stinky had apparently toilet papered someone's house and were each fined a few pretty pennies and had to help clean the guy's yard. They had gotten away from him when they ran…but he knew them.

Old Principal Wartz, remember him? They toilet papered **his** house! Heh, I guess some things never change.

As for the new movie place, even I must admit that I'm impressed. Turns out Phoebe was just paranoid about the power. Nobody said she was an electrician, just smart. All that had happened is since the new theatre's opening day had been rushed, not all the wires had been checked and when the place began to run full force, a couple wires shorted and then fried the nearby transformer.

Needless to say, The Patakis didn't learn a single lesson and all as it was.

Oh! And your grandpa scared the living daylights out of everyone at the boardinghouse with one of his tall tales. Ever heard of Captain James of the Spaceship MARS 2000?"

Helga Pataki

__

"P.S. 'Bride of Evil Twin' wasn't half bad, what do you think, football head?"

Written By: Old Betsy

Edited By: The Five Avengers

Directed By: Nicole K.

Produced By: Nicole K.

Based on characters created by Craig Bartlett  
  
Most characters are privately owned by such parties as Nickelodeon, Viacom, etc. and are used without permission, but not without respect.


	4. Helga's Painting

A lone man strolled down the sidewalk, heading for a nearby bus stop. As far as he could see, he was the only one carrying an umbrella and he thanked the fact he had bothered to watch the news that day. Heavy clouds hovered over the city, gray and thick, as if pondering what they wanted to do. They were hurried along by a gathering wind, heavy with humidity. They seemed to growl slightly with protest, barely audible to those living in the house or even those wandering the streets. The man, however, was not fooled by their indecision-his own instinct and habitual weather check that morning told him so. There was certainly no harm in being prepared. 

Suddenly there was a loud shout from above and he barely managed to jump out of the way as a canister of paint came flying from a window. The plastic container shattered and a strange shade that was difficult to discern between blue or green, flew into the air and splattered onto the concrete walk.

The man gasped for breath, watching the puddle grow even larger. Then his expression changed to one of annoyance as he glared up towards the window that the small cylinder had come from. A girl had her head stuck out the window, a scowl on her face and two pigtails that projected stiffly on opposite sides of her head. A blue bandanna was tied over her hair and several different colors were smeared on her face and on what he could see of her hands and arms.

She narrowed her eyes at his stare and he hurried on.

With a small snort, Helga turned around to face a canvas spalashed with a myriad of colors. Frustrated, she tossed that out of the window as well, hearing it hit the trashcan below and a cat cry out. Storming to her closet, she yanked out another clean canvas, she only had one more left, and propped it onto the easel.

She'd only decided to give canvas painting a try this past weekend. Helga had to admit it had a calming quality and she liked the feel, but the flip side was she often got aggravated and was unsatisfied with most of her works. "Oh well," she said with a soft chuckle, "To be an artist is to be both frustrated and content."

She arranged her collection of paints on a table she'd managed to con her mother into buying. It had a few shelves; all littered with new art supplies and one or two "helpful hints" books, and had wheels so she could move it as she pleased. Helga spun the table around, uncapping the containers on the other side and squeezing tubes of paint into them. Tubes were too messy for her tastes. Snatching up a thin tipped brush, she dabbed it into a light peach shade.

"But then," Helga sighed, stroking a thin line across the canvas, "what is an artist without a muse?"

She continued on, making an oddly familiar outline though she wasn't paying enough attention to notice. She tossed the brush into a water bucket, stirring it a little, and then grabbed a large brush with a thick mass of bristles. She rubbed it over the streaks of light peach to spread it inside of the outline. "Ah, but I do have a muse, though he is not here." She carefully stroked it back and forth, watching faded lines mix unto one another. "Arnold…" she sighed.

Helga then placed that brush in the water bucket, stirring furiously. She removed both brushes and beat them against the table's side to dry them. She then grabbed another brush and dipped it into a soft yellow, like the color of Thai silk. "Strokes of yellow…" Helga's hand whipped the brush over the canvas above the pale peach shade. "Stalks of the goldenrod wheat." Tossing the brush into the water and repeating the usual process, she grabbed the thick brush and spread the yellow about in soft stacks.

"Waving in the Forbidden Winds…" she continued painting, dabbing various brushes into colors, as she described what she truly didn't realize she was painting.

"Waiting for hues of gold to meet.

Shades of the softest emeralds

Cut in halos of the soul

The center a deep black,

Warmer than borne by any coal.

Scarlet red with lines of pale orange

Checkered memories of past time

Pictures convey words

For wedding bells that may never chime."

Helga stepped back from the painting. Colors were scattered and fanned everywhere, but the football shape was perfectly distinguishable and the coloring was in just the right places. Sure enough, it was a somewhat abstract painting of her beloved. She smiled longingly at it. "One moment, my love…I have to write all that down!"

She dashed into the closet to grab her newest book and flip to the latest page, crawling up into the attic space to be sure of a truly inspired writing session.

Moments after Helga ducked into her closet, the light footsteps of Olga could be heard through the hallway and to her sister's door. She poked her head through the small opening in the door and peeked around the corner. "Baby sister, it's time for dinner!" she called, quickly scanning the room as she glanced inside. Seeing that Helga wasn't in plain view, she took the liberty of walking further into the room to look for her, something that she had often been forbidden to do.

"Oh baby sister, I know you'll absolutely love dinner tonight," she said as she continued to scan the room. "We're having a delicious…ooh, now what could this be?" Olga paused as she ran into the canvas on which Helga had been previously working. She walked around it so that she could get a full view, and then gasped when she saw the work in its entirety. As she stared at the painting, she clasped her hands together and sputtered through words in which she tried to describe it. "Oh my…well this is…just…wow…this is amazing!" she was finally able to say in excitement, as she picked up the painting and held it to the light from the open window.

"This painting reminds me of the works of Picasso during his abstractive period," she exclaimed in admiration of Helga's work. As she leaned the painting against the wall in Helga's room, she snapped when she suddenly had an idea. "I know exactly where to put this…and the gang will absolutely _adore_ it," she squealed, as she picked up the painting and quickly exited Helga's room, leaving the door swinging open behind her.

Shortly after Olga ran down the front steps of the Pataki home, put the painting into her car and pulled away from the building, Helga emerged from the closet where she wrote a few inspired words after her experimental creation. As usual, she stared at her writing and swayed from side to side as she relived the sentiments in her mind over and over again. She sighed as she stared down at her pink book, and reality slowly began to flush back to her. 

"Alas, this was my Arnold, the Arnold that I once knew and adored, the Arnold that was well worth such adoration…the Arnold I was separated from by only a mere walking distance, sometimes a few feet…not hundreds upon hundreds of miles," she proclaimed. She leaned against the wall of her room, holding the pink book to her chest and staring off into the distance. She then walked in the direction of her bed, where her painting once stood. "And now, what do I have of him but sweet dreams, bitter sweet memories and fading images. Oh Arnold, do I really know you at all? The only perspective in which I can recall your sweet brow is in this…" before Helga could continue her monologue of sorts, she paused in front of the space in her room that held her picture, to notice that it was now…missing. Before she lent another thought to the subject of the painting, she dropped her pink book and began to comb the room for the painting she assumed that she had misplaced.

After virtually tearing the room apart in search of the painting, she realized that it was no longer in her room, and noticed that the door was wide open. She thought quickly, and her thoughts immediately lead her to Miriam, who was on the floor below her in the kitchen supplementing dinner with a health shake. As Helga bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen where her prime suspect stood, Miriam simply glanced at her and waved absently. "Oh, there you are Helga. Dinner's been ready for a few minutes now and I was wondering if you'd ever come down, but, here you are," she shrugged as she mixed a bag of cocoa into a blender.

Helga's objective was temporarily interrupted as she watched Miriam's actions suspiciously. "Mom, what's in the blender this time?" she asked, trying to side step her first and obvious concern.

Miriam, perceptive to Helga's timid worry, waved a hand at Helga and smiled as she continued to mix the ingredients in the blender. "Oh, don't worry dear, no more smoothies for me," she chuckled, as she put the lid on the blender. "I just found this…fabulous recipe for an energy shake in one of my nutrition books, and the lady at the bookstore recommended it to me and…I dunno, somehow I never got to making it," her mother said, leaning against the kitchen counter. She then noticed that Helga was still looking somewhat distraught, and leaned towards her. "Is there something the matter, honey, that you wanted to talk to me about, because, you know, I'm always there…"

"As a matter of fact, Mom," Helga began, staring down at her feet before turning her attention to Miriam, "there is the small matter of a certain painting, shall we say, that was once in my room that looked like just another seemingly unimportant, abstract work, and I was wondering that, perhaps in your effort to keep my room looking spic and span, you may have…"

Miriam interrupted Helga before she could complete her description. "Oh, a painting? The only painting I know of is the one Olga kept going on and on about that she found in your room a few minutes ago," Miriam volunteered, leaning back on the kitchen counter. On this note, Helga perked up and looked at her mother to continue. "I looked at it, and I guessed it was okay, but it would be even better if you didn't paint that odd…um…football shaped thing. Of course, if I had a chance to look at it more closely, perhaps I would have been able to figure it out…"

"Olga! I should have known," Helga suddenly exclaimed, finally coming to the realization that it was her sister who had nabbed her painting. Helga then looked at her mother, who was slightly alarmed by her daughter's sudden outburst, and tried to clean her tracks. "I…mean…oh. I should have known that…um…she would appreciate…fine art when she saw it, yeah, that's it," Helga quickly corrected.

Miriam shrugged. "Well, that's one thing she can do all right," she replied flatly, turning back to the blender. "She had so much potential as a…a school teacher. I don't understand why she wanted to throw everything else away to become…an actress? Helga, you understand your sister could have been absolutely anything in this world, but, an actress? I tell her not to throw away her life in marriage, and then she turns around and does this. I think she's completely missing the point…"

"Um, Miriam," Helga interrupted, before her mother could continue her rant.

"Oh, sorry honey…I guess I got a little bit carried away, that's all," Miriam chuckled, adjusting her glasses and turning back to Helga. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

Helga sighed. "Okay, focus, Miriam…where exactly did Olga take _my_ painting after she went on and on about it?" Helga asked patiently, taking hold of her mother's crossed arms and looking into her eyes.

Miriam stared back absently at Helga until her words registered. "Oh yeah, Olga said something about taking it down to the art gallery downtown, next to the theater where she…auditions, to enter it in a contest…or something. Said she couldn't wait for everyone to see it. Now, if you will excuse me, Helga, I've got to get this thing mixing before Olga comes back for dinner," Miriam said finally, tightening the cap on the blender and turning it on. As she did this, Helga let loose a blood curdling scream that Miriam could not hear due to the ridiculous hum of the blender, but managed to echo outside of the house and disrupted the pigeons resting quietly on the gutters.

Meanwhile, further down the street and into the downtown area, Olga was emerging from her car and looked towards the sky as if she heard a sound. She parked in front of the art gallery and removed the painting from the car. As she did this, a few of her artsy friends came out of the gallery to assist her in the handling of the painting. From the building also came Eugene, who was dressed in paint-stained attire from previous work. He looked up at the sky at the same time as Olga did and the group stood there for several moments. "Hey guys…did you hear something?" Eugene asked, looking back at the group.

"Oh, I'm sure that was just the sound of little birdies or something," Olga waved off, setting the painting carefully on the pavement. "Anyway, gang, I thought I'd bring this _terrific_ little piece my baby sister created for the exhibit…that is, if you don't mind?"

One of Olga's friends stepped forward exchanged a kiss and cheek press with Olga, then took the canvas sheet off of the painting and examined it. "Olga, baby, what are you talking about? This is exactly the caliber of excellence we're looking for," she said, stepping back as the rest of the group examined it.

"Yes, I love how your sister's got that…taco shaped thing standing on top of the pillar," one of the group said, rubbing his goatee. "It almost looks…masculine. It's just great. Be sure to enter it in the contest, darling, it's absolutely fabulous."

Helga peered around the edge of a red brick house, the bus zooming off behind her. "That Olga…" she hissed, glancing over at the art gallery that was a number of buildings away. "How dare she take my painting without asking! Especially one so revealing! If anyone I know sees it, they'll recognize whom it's about," she spun away from the art gallery, settling her back against the bricks. "A football shape, hair that stands up all willy-nilly, red and orange checkered shirt…those soft, caring eyes and the radiance of an angel…"

Before she knew what she was doing, Helga pulled out her locket to stare into the image of her beloved. The picture was only a few weeks old, Grandpa had given it to her, saying it was an extra and to "put it somewhere". Figuring he'd forget about it, she kept it. "My love, must you always be the center of both my troubles and my joys?" She stepped out onto the walk into a pirouette, smiling longingly at Arnold's visage.

"Your image on canvas unworthy

A picture I can never convey

That I hold here in my heart

With words I cannot say.

Your angelic smile

Brings colors in no rainbow

That no mixture of paints can create

That no brush can help to show

My caged heart

Longing for yours away

  
Oh, had I only kept my angel

Fallen from me that day.

You are gone, my great desire

And here I stay, burning with fire."

She stopped suddenly, the locket hugged to her chest. A familiar sound that had haunted her from her youngest days wheezed out behind her.

Slowly, Helga's eyelids drooped in agitation and her left fist snapped back on reflex, right into Brainy's face. She felt the age-old crunch of his glasses beneath her knuckles and he fell over, unconscious. Then she snapped her fingers as she peered down at his prone form. "I forgot Dr. Bliss doesn't want me to do that anymore!"

Sighing, she shrugged it off and sneaked down the street. Hiding in the alley next to the art gallery, Helga watched someone stroll down the steps and slowly out of sight. She dashed over and grabbed the door handle, hearing it rattle as she pulled. Blinking, she stared into a white square displayed in the window.

"Closed," it read.

Helga sat heavily onto her bed. The day was growing late, and thoughts were heavy on her mind. "How am I going to get that painting?"

She sighed and fell back onto the pink sheets. "Okay…I _have_ to get it back…but then they'll notice that it's missing."

Sitting back up, she stroked her chin in thought. "So, first, I paint some new, random painting to replace it with, and then figure out how to sneak it in."

Helga stood and paced. "Maybe I can pay off a guard or there's a back door…there _has_ to be a way…" She turned to glance at the easel and paint cart. "But first…"

She strolled over and lifted her last canvas, "I need an idea…but I only have one canvas left!" As she placed it unto the easel, she was interrupted, causing her hands to fumble and the canvas to pitch warily through the air. Helga snatched it, quickly gaining a better grip.

"Baby sister!" cried an annoying familiar voice. Helga cringed as Olga peeked in, glaring at her as she set the canvas onto the easel. "I have a surprise for you!"

"What is it, Olga?" The younger sibling sighed and slipped her apron on.

Her older sister giggled. "I think you're a wonderful artist, and to help you along, my art friends donated some canvases and other art supplies!" She swung the door open to reveal a large mass of art items.

Helga smirked. "Wonders never cease."

Growling with frustration, Helga tossed the fourth painting out the window. So far, they had all come out looking much too similar to a certain someone. "Can't I think of _anything_ that doesn't have to do with Arnold?"

She glanced at her closet and her vast shrine came to mind. "…"

Sighing, she began to pace. "I need something that just _can't_ be connected to Arnold."

Helga paused by her writing desk; a picture of her, her sister, and her parents peeked out from the variety of unfinished homework papers. It had been taken on their front porch. She rolled her eyes and snatched it up. "Well, it's _something_."

Strolling back to her canvas, she nabbed a brush and dipped it into the yellow, deciding to start with her own hair. She continued on, glancing back and forth from the picture to her canvas. Colors streaked and smeared, shades blending into shadows and depths.

After about forty minutes, she stepped back from a nearly finished version of the photo. It wasn't half bad for a first try at realism. "But Olga would _definitely_ notice the difference…" Her face crumpled. "And then she might talk about family togetherness and how cute this is…"

The painting was tossed somewhere under the bed, kicking out a few dust bunnies.

She frowned and grunted as she lifted the next canvas onto the easel. Pausing to wipe her forehead, Helga glanced out the window as the sun slowly began to sink beneath the skyline. She raised half of her unibrow. Then she grinned and snapped her fingers. An "abstract" sunset would sure be close enough to the previous painting of Arnold so that Olga and anyone else who had seen it might know the difference…but not so different that she couldn't play it off.

"It's perfect!"

So Helga got right to work.

The painting finished and starting to dry, Helga was in her closet, clothes flying out at a strange pace. Miriam peeked in, dodging a pale blue dress she doubted had ever been worn, "Helga, dear?"

"What is it mom?" came her daughter's voice in a tone that said she wasn't really paying attention.

Miriam watched as a shoe came flying out and smacked into the writing desk, sending pencils skittering to the floor, "Is everything all right?"

"Huh?" Helga peeked out, fitting a black cap over her hair with black smears over her cheeks, looking the typical part of a thief. "Oh, oh, fine, fine. Everything's great, peachy keen…" she ducked back inside and Miriam watched her daughter's pale blue jeans come out. A moment later, Helga strolled over to the bed, dressed all in black and flopped onto the bed, slipping on a pair of black boots.

"If you say so…" Miriam muttered and stepped out, wondering if maybe she did need a smoothie…

Meanwhile, Helga was busily plotting to herself. Slipping on the second boot and zipping it up, she hopped off the bed and paused to stomp the boots. Yep, they still fit great. "Perfect," she mumbled.

Giving one last adjustment to her cap, to make sure it fit tightly with nothing but pigtails and bangs poking out, she grabbed her painting and peeked out of the room. She glanced back and forth.

Seeing no one, Helga tiptoed down the hall and down the stairs. Big Bob was watching the usual television shows and she slipped out unnoticed.

"This shouldn't be too hard," she said to herself, quietly closing the door behind her and dashing down the street.

Apparently she spoke too soon since the sky gave a loud crack of thunder, water suddenly coming down in sheets.

Ignoring it, Helga pressed on to the gallery. "Now, to just replace this with the other…" she said as she hid beneath an awning. She held up the painting to check it, only to find a smeared watery mess left behind by the pouring rain.

Helga slapped her forehead, "Criminy!"

An hour later, equipped with dry clothing and another painting in hand, Helga sneaked out once more. The black umbrella that she had opted to take with her this time was held solely over her painting as she, dripping wet, dashed down the streets. The sun had long since set, and the street lamps cast long shadows across the dark pavement.

Finally, Helga reached the awning she had been beneath before. She paused again, peering around the corner at the art gallery to make sure no one was standing outside.

Suddenly, a car came speeding past. Its wheels dipped into a deep puddle and it sharply turned the corner. Thick, muddy water splashed up onto the painting and Helga. She stared through the sheets of rain for a moment, her hair clinging to her face. Then, she growled and threw the ruined painting onto the soaked pavement, storming back home.

Helga held onto the newest painting for dear life. She had cut up some of Miriam's trash bags and covered the painting. The rain made it slick and difficult to hold both the large canvas as well as the umbrella.

"I don't care what I have to go through! I _have_ to get that painting!" she said firmly, not bothering to pause at the corner and stormed right up to the front door of the gallery. She set the painting down gently on the dry step, since there was a small roof above. Then Helga placed her hands to the glass door to peer inside.

Sure enough, a guard was asleep in a chair by the doors. "Perfect," she reached into the small pouch around her waist for a few utensils used for breaking and entering.

Then a bright light flashed through the window and a shadow appeared behind it. "Hey!" cried the second guard that she hadn't counted on.

Screaming, Helga grabbed the painting and ran for it.

The guard flashed off the light and blinked. "I was just going to ask if anything was wrong," he said with a shrug and returned to his own seat in the next room.

"This is insane!" Helga barked, her back against the wet bricks, hugging the covered canvas to her chest. "Why must these things always happen to me?"

She looked back and forth as she hid in the alley. "There must be another way in…" Then she looked up to see a fire escape right next to high up air vent.

Shrugging, she wasn't going question how she was going to fit the canvas through. She carefully tossed the canvas unto the pulled up fire escape, smiling in thanks at the fact it actually landed flawlessly. Then, she climbed unto a box and hopped up, grabbing the slick metal bars.

Grunting, Helga pulled herself up.

Only to accidentally kick the painting off the fire escape. She growled as she watched it land perfectly and lean against the brick wall as if it had been neatly placed there. She swung her leg back over, getting a firm grip onto one of the bars and preparing for an unusual acrobat act.

Suddenly, the back door clicked open and two janitors stepped out. "This rain is crazy, I tell ya," one said, tossing two bags into the dumpster.

The other tossed in a single one, and then opened a large umbrella. "No kidding. Look, I'll drive you home. Don't want you walking in this."

"It's only a block," he said with a shrug, turning to close the large bin.

Helga looked between the two and then at the unattended open door. "Now's your chance!" she whispered to herself, leaping down and nabbing the canvas, rolling into the building with a series of grunts and crashes.

The two janitors turned to only see the door they left open swaying slightly in the heavy rain.

"I tell ya, this place is haunted."

"You're just paranoid," the other snapped, shutting the door.

Helga sat inside, just around the doorjamb and sighed with relief. "Okay, now to find that troublesome painting and get this _over with_."

She stood up, brushed herself off, and limped into the dark room.

The halls were darker than ebony and Helga peered into each room as she slid along the wall. She had ditched the homemade trash bag cover by the back door, since that would make too much noise. Looking into another dark room, Helga sighed.

"How am I going to find the painting if the place is _this_ dark?" she muttered to herself. There were some emergency lights that were always on, but they were few and far between. "I should have brought a flashlight."

She slipped into the next room purely on a whim, finding herself directly beneath an emergency light. Helga blinked, staring at the odd variety of statues around her as she stood amongst the sculptures. She snorted at the nearest one, some oddball creation that had no true sense of form. "Where do they come up with this stuff?"

Suddenly, she noticed the sound of heavy footsteps.

Helga's eyes darted back and forth as she heard the guards approaching. There was no place for her to hide.

The voices of the guards carried as they walked closer.

"…I just don't understand how this can be called 'art'…" one was saying.

His companion laughed. "You can say that again," he agreed.

"And look at this one," his partner continued, stopping in front of a statue that looked suspiciously like Helga posing in a way she hoped passed for graceful.

They both grimaced at Helga, and then continued on their rounds.

"…They get uglier every year…" she heard as they disappeared from sight.

Helga clenched her fists and growled.

Helga had made it through several more rooms before she found one labeled "Art Contest Entries" with some fancy name next to it. Apparently the state was funding it for some reason she didn't bother to continue reading for. "Stupid Olga," she sighed, feeling a little relieved as she pushed down an aisle. She was inside a large presentation room, several paintings were up on the stage and there were doors on either side, leading to more entries.

Helga shifted the canvas in her arms, a small smile touching her lips. "All I have to do is find mine, replace it, and run for it. You did it, Helga ol' girl. This nightmare is almost over!"

Unexpectedly, a scream pitched through the black, followed by a thump, a click, and then power. The lights came on too bright, the curtains pulling away in the back of the stage to show a large screen. It flickered to life, starting a presentation about amateur art and those who had become famous from such contests as the one her painting had been placed in.

A dark figure lay prone behind the chestnut podium.

Helga stopped dead in her tracks. The figure on the ground, had it just moved? Yes, it had, a definite hand gesture.

"I am so dead..." Helga moaned as the figure slowly rose. If she held her breath and stood really still, would he look right past her? _Worth a shot_. She thought to herself, bringing her feet together and keeping her arms stiff to her sides. The figure ahead of her dusted his pants off.

"I'm okay…" he murmured to himself, turning around. "HELGA?" he asked, guilt written all over his face. It was Eugene. "Oh my gosh!" He walked away from her deliberately, tripping over his feet after a few steps. He landed hard on his rear. "Please, don't hurt me! I didn't mean to!" Nervously, he gestured to a canvas that was lying down on the ground a few feet away from her. It was ugly, covered with a sticky pink substance and oily handprints. A muddy shoe print was imprinted in the center.

"After your sister brought your painting down, I wanted to get a good look at it, but before I could, I tripped over a wire and spilled my strawberry soda all over it and knocked it over." Eugene was frantic, trying to explain how such a horrible thing could happen to the well-known bully's painting, "And as I was getting up, I slipped in a puddle of soda, and I stepped on the painting, and I came back here to fix it, and, and…"he looked like he was about to have a breakdown.

Helga, however, was wordless throughout this entire exchange. Slowly and deliberately, she handed a frightened Eugene the new painting, shut off the power controls that he had hit, and backed out of the building.

The heavy, dark rain clouds dissipated as the back door slammed shut behind her. "Ha!" she laughed, looking up at the sky, "Everything worked out!"

The air seemed so peaceful now that the storm was gone. Stars peeked out from in between a cluster of clouds, and some birds flew lazily overhead. "Nothing can go wrong now!" She smiled, almost tempting fate. Fate, being thoroughly tempted, left Helga with a smattering of bird droppings on her face.

The next day, Miriam joined Olga and Helga to view the contest exhibit shortly after the judging took place. Helga, dolled up for the occasion under the supervision of Olga, fidgeted slightly in her evening dress made of some itchy material that irritated her skin. Once again, Olga ignored her sister's concerns for her own interests, and dragged both her and the lethargic Miriam, tired from a day of working out with her personal trainer, around the exhibit and critiqued each entry.

Helga perked up when they reached the room where her painting hung…the painting that had been revised several times before reaching its final destination. Olga led Miriam towards the painting and Helga followed less reluctantly than she would have. "Well, Mom, here is the painting that I was telling you…about…" Olga paused as she stood before the painting, then placed her hand on her chest and became speechless.

Helga raised her eyebrow at the painting, and then looked from the face of her sister, who was somewhat shocked, to the face of her mother, who was somewhat confused. She chuckled a little to herself before speaking. "What's the matter, Olga? It doesn't look as good as you thought, or is it just the lighting?"

"No, it's not that. I still really like it, and you placed really well in the contest, but…" Olga began.

Miriam completed the sentiment for her. "I don't know about you, Olga, but this doesn't look like the same painting that you showed me yesterday," she said, scratching her head and tilting her head to the side.

Olga snapped. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Mom. I could have sworn there was an aspect in this that I'm really not seeing…" Olga trailed off, as Helga turned her attention to a corner of the room where Eugene was standing, attempting to seem unconcerned and low key. As soon as Helga's gaze fell upon him, Eugene attempted to shrink into the corner and disappear, still harboring a guilty conscious. Helga simply chuckled at him and then returned to the painting.

She tilted her head at he painting again and sighed. "Just do me a favor, Olga. Next time you want to enter me in some wacky contest, don't mind telling me about it first, okay. I think I could have done this better the first time if I had known," Helga said absently. She continued smiling as her mother and sister did not pick up on her ambiguity, and once again fell into a false sense of security, although in the back of her mind she knew something like this could happen again.

"…And kick!" the woman on TV instructed, bouncing about with a cheesy grin. Panting, Miriam tried to keep up with the pace of the aerobic show.

"Don't over work yourself, Mummy," Olga said, waving her index finger as she went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

"Okay dear!" Miriam replied, setting onto the floor to stretch.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs and Miriam glanced over her shoulder as Big Bob nabbed his coat and hat. "I'm off to the beeper store, Miriam."

"Have a nice day, B!" she called, stretching the other leg.

He grunted something, grabbing the doorknob.

"Oh!" Miriam suddenly cried, standing back up and swabbing her forehead as the girls on the screen continued to prance about to pop music. "Could you take the trash cans to the curb for me, B?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Miriam," he mumbled.

Helga, though just awakening and still in her nightdress as well as her hair down, whipped out her purple pen and a clean sheet of paper. She had promised herself to write to Arnold about the day before first thing come morning. She paused to swoon momentarily at the locket propped on her nightstand.

"Dear Arnold," She read out loud as she wrote. Downstairs, she heard Miriam's exercise show playing and Big Bob hurrying out to work. She herself had to start getting ready for school soon or she'd be late.

As she scribbled, she heard the door close.

A moment later Big Bob's shout rattled down the streets. "_Helga_!" he cried, getting the name right for once. Helga tossed the pen and paper to the side to glare out her window.

"_What_?"

He scowled back, pointing the mess her paints and canvases had left.

Helga could only grin sheepishly down at her father.

The water was warm off the coast of Africa…warm for ocean waters anyway. He wasn't going to dive too deep, just a couple of feet below the surface to video tape a few seals as they swam by. He had opted for a neoprene quarter-inch wet suit. A weight belt with light weights to counteract the buoyancy of the wet suit was clamped around his waist. Since he had paused to fiddle with the buoyancy compensator, he missed a seal speeding by.

He sighed softly in disgust, or at least as best was possible around the mouth apparatus. Readjusting the waterproof camera, he panned back and forth to peer as far as he could into the blue depths, waiting for a shadowy figure to approach.

What he didn't know was that from somewhere down below, he had caught something's attention. The cold eyes adjusted, calibrating the shape and size. The shadowed figure above, to it, resembled a seal well enough to suit its tastes.

The tail fin flicked and its dark gray top with blue hues was not noticed in the waters. The man peered down at the last second to see a shark's gaping jaws heading for him at unimaginable speeds…

"Arnold!"

Arnold blinked, coming out of the daydream. The TV continued rambling about how some great whites "leap" into the air to catch their food. He lay sprawled in the one-seat chair, his legs dangling over one arm while his head was propped on the other. His harmonica was in his hand as it hung over the edge. He leaned back to peer into his mother's face.

"Here's your paper, you left it on the kitchen table." She flicked the newspaper onto his face and he grinned, grabbing it and pulling it away. "Also, I think the mail's here." His mother pointed with her thumb and over her shoulder towards the door where several envelopes lay on the floor.

"Okay," he said and half jumped from where he sat. The paper was placed onto the coffee table. "I've been waiting for some mail anyway."

Suddenly, Arnold paused as something in the paper caught his eye. It was only the local, but one section was usually saved for large events within the state. Apparently there had been an art contest throughout the state and the section was displaying those who had placed high. He turned back, staring at one in amazement, but mostly at the name beside it.

"Helga G. Pataki," he read out loud. He made a small sound, like a cut off laugh. "Well, what do you know…?"

Written By: Old Betsy

Edited By: The Five Avengers

Directed By: Nicole K.

Produced By: Nicole K.

Based on characters created by Craig Bartlett

Most characters are privately owned by such parties as Nickelodeon, Viacom, etc. and are used without permission, but not without respect.


	5. Phoebe's Downfall

"Oh, this has to be the greatest lunch ever." Harold sighed happily, digging into his paper bag to pull out a large assortment of foods. An enormous steak and cheese sub, a bag of potato salt and vinegar chips, a chocolate pudding cup, a cupcake, and a large thermos of root beer soda.  
  
Rhonda furrowed her brow at the ensemble and Harold noticed her. He frowned and rolled his eyes as he put the cupcake back into the bag and pulled out an apple. Rhonda just shook her head and stuck her nose back into her fashion magazine.  
  
Stinky hollowed out his own bag while Sid made a face at his "healthy" lunch his mother had packed. "You're so lucky Harold."  
  
Helga snorted from the opposite side of the table, chewing on her pastrami sub. "Oh, yes, we're all so very envious of Harold's over emphasized gut."  
  
"I'll have you know that I lost some weight," Harold said snootily as he bit into his own sub.  
  
"Most likely a loss in brain mass."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Man," Gerald sighed, fiddling with his carton of milk. "This has got to be the worst school lunch ever." He gestured to his tray full of various colored puddles of muck.  
  
The others crumpled their faces at it.  
  
Rhonda pinched her nose. "What is that horrid food?"  
  
A raucous laugh disturbed the air, and then Wolfgang slammed his hands onto their corner of the table. "It's what you're going to be this Saturday, you wussy sophomores."  
  
Helga didn't bother looking at Wolfgang, Ludwig and their group of lackeys, continuing to eat her lunch. "Well, well, speaking of brain loss."  
  
"Shut it unibrow." Wolfgang snapped.  
  
Ludwig crossed his arms and smirked at the group. "The name of the game is baseball; the Vacant Lot, Saturday at one. Be there."  
  
"Or what?" Helga asked as she finally decided to glare back at the group of juniors.  
  
Wolfgang answered by curling his fist under her chin and she leaned back to avoid being touched. "Or else."  
  
"But fellars," Stinky broke in and Helga slapped Wolfgang's fist away when his attention was turned. "I thought we played against the lot of you last weekend."  
  
"And you lost." Gerald added on with a sardonic look.  
  
"Hey!" Ludwig hissed. "Shut it tall hair boy, or I'll shut it for you." Gerald rolled his eyes in response.  
  
"When are you going to learn?" Helga sighed, standing. "You lose to us more often than you win."  
  
"I'd say at least three quarters of the time." Phoebe added on.  
  
"Shut up!" Wolfgang jabbed a finger at them, and then recomposed himself. "Saturday, be there." With that, the group of juniors strutted off.  
  
"Morons." Helga grunted and sat back down.  
  
"Boy howdy, Phoebe, you keep track of how many times we win?" Sid said in surprise as he flicked his health granola bar to a passing freshman. He blinked in confusion as it slapped into his tray, spraying the muck over his shirt.  
  
Phoebe adjusted her glasses. "Not to the exact number, but a generalized guess with a proportional probability calculated in."  
  
They all stared at her for a moment.  
  
"Gee willikers, I imagine you'll win first place at the science fair." Stinky marveled.  
  
Rhonda glared over her magazine. "What science fair?"  
  
"Aw, man, it's that time of year again?" Gerald sighed as he pushed his tray away.  
  
Harold spoke around the bit of sub he was chewing. "You guys have the class later in the day. Ours is second period."  
  
Sid rifled through his books and produced a sheet of paper, handing it to the other side where Gerald, Helga, Phoebe, and the continually silent Brainy sat. "The project is due next month. There'll be a huge fair with judges and a prize for first place!"  
  
Helga snatched the sheet from Gerald, and peered at it as he glared at her. "So Mrs. Sandler is having another science fair, huh?"  
  
"I believe that was already stated, Helga." Phoebe said as she leaned over to read.  
  
Helga flicked the sheet at her. "I'll think of a project later."  
  
Phoebe read over it again, now that she had a better view of the print. "It says here, Helga, that students are allowed to work in groups of two or three."  
  
"Really? Let me see that!" Harold snatched it from Phoebe, the paper already gaining a few grease stains from his fingers as he sipped his root beer. "Wow!"  
  
"Alright, we can work on one together!" Stinky grinned around his cheese sandwich.  
  
"Boy Howdy!" Sid snatched a tapioca pudding from another passing student's tray. He had long since been banned from the dessert line due to an incident earlier in the school year.  
  
"Hey!" they cried, but were pushed along by their friends.  
  
"So, Pheebs, what project are we going to do this year?" Helga asked as she peeled a banana.  
  
Phoebe watched as Harold passed the paper to Rhonda, who held it with the very tips of her fingers in disgust at the stains. "Actually, Helga, I think I would like to work on a project alone this year."  
  
Helga shrugged and bit roughly into the fruit. "No problem."  
  
"Uh." Brainy wheezed and grinned at Helga. "I'm free."  
  
She stared at him momentarily, the chewed food balled up in one cheek. She turned to face the opposite side of the table, swallowed, and her fist flipped up to smack him in the face.  
  
  
  
"Um, honey." Miriam mumbled, one hand over the sweatband on her forehead, "Could you repeat your little project idea again, I don't think I'm following."  
  
Helga sighed, thrusting a potted plant into her hands. She should have known better then to bother her mom while she was cooking, as her mom had a one-track mind. "Just make sure that Bob remembers to water it, and take care of it, okay?" She asked her mom, turning back to her. Miriam was once again pouring over a recipe from her Health and Wellness magazine.  
  
"Two cups of soy milk... Okay, Helga. A table spoon of salt..." She muttered to herself, mixing ingredients. Helga groaned, picking the plant back up. "I'll just leave it in their room. Criminy." While storming out of the kitchen, she passed Bob on his chair, watching TV.  
  
"PASS THE BALL, YOU IDIOT!" Bob bellowed at the TV set, angrily. Helga smirked, an idea forming.  
  
"Hey dad." She put the plant beside his chair. "Just water this every two hours, okay?"  
  
Bob turned from the game to look at his daughter. "Sure, Olga. Now leave me alone while the game's on!"  
  
"Yes, BOB." She hissed, walking out of the room and ascending the stairs up to Olga's room.  
  
"Oh, baby sister!" Olga happily exclaimed, hugging Helga to her tightly, "This is so wonderful! Of course I'll help you with your project!"  
  
"Thanks, Olga." Helga said flatly, not exactly happy to ask favors of her sister. "Let me go, please?" Olga let go, and Helga breathed in deeply. "So, just play some happy Mary Sunshine music and water the plant, okay? I'll come in every once in a while and check on it."  
  
Olga giggled, "Okay, Helga. But why am I playing the music? I don't think I understand..."  
  
Helga rolled her eyes, "I'm trying to figure out if a plant's caretaker has an effect on the plant's growth. Bob's plant's next to his TV, so it's probably going to be yelled at the entire time. Yours will have "happy" music playing without cease, and mine will get poetry read to it." Helga turned on her heel, leaving the room.  
  
"I'll try to be a good caretaker, baby sister!" Olga yelled after her.  
  
  
  
Phoebe carefully set the bowl onto the apparatus, the dim light shining on her glasses while the rest of the room lay dark, giving her a mad scientist look.  
  
Mrs. Hyerdahl peered cautiously into the room through the small sliver that had appeared when she had opened the door. "Are you sure you don't need any help?"  
  
Phoebe didn't even glance over as she lifted a pitcher of water and poured gently into the large bowl. "Oh, yes mother, I'm sure. Thank you anyway," she glanced over briefly to smile, and then focused back on the slowly filling glass bowl.  
  
"All right dear," and the door clicked shut.  
  
Phoebe barely heard it, pulling the pitcher away, setting it aside, and flicking a switch on the apparatus. The bowl of water began to spin, ice placed in another container beneath the bowl. She grinned as she placed drips of color into the water.  
  
  
  
Big Bob was off at the emporium and Olga was at the art gallery again, so Miriam took the chance to sit in the main room, practicing her Yoga. Candles were lit on the tables, a single stick of incense burning over in one corner. The main lights were off and the curtains closed, the room dark but for the flickering flames.  
  
She took slow breaths, allowing her "chi" to flow evenly with the space around her. Her newest book was something she picked from a shelf called "New Age" at the local library. She was currently testing one that was supposed to help empower her.or something like that.  
  
Though she was meditating, or trying to, she found instead that her head was drooping with sleep. Just as she began to drift off, the phone rang and she jumped, looking about in confusion and fixing her tilted glasses. Clearing her throat, she stood and stretched as the second ring rattled the room. Yawning, she strolled and lifted the receiver by the beginning of the fourth ring. "Hello?" She muttered, stifling another yawn.  
  
"Miriam, it's me, Helga," her youngest daughter's voice announced.  
  
"Oh, hello dear," Miriam smiled sleepily at the phone.  
  
Helga sighed on the other end. "Look, Mom, I'm playing a baseball game at Gerald Field and it's lasting longer than I thought. Could you go to my room in about five minutes and read a poem to the plant?"  
  
"Why would you read poetry to a plant?" Miriam asked out loud, wondering if she had fallen asleep after all.  
  
"My science project, Miriam, remember?"  
  
"Oh, oh! Yes dear. Of course."  
  
"I left a book on my nightstand by the bed, just pick any poem from it, okay?"  
  
"Sure honey. Have fun," and the line went silent as Helga hung up.  
  
Feeling slightly more awake, Miriam flicked the light on and went around blowing out the candles, leaving the incense to finish burning away. She gathered up all her supplies, put them away, and then headed up the stairs. Cautiously she pushed the door open, as if her daughter was actually there and ready to snap at her as Helga often did. The door opened to a darkened room and she reached out for the light switch.  
  
Miriam blinked at the sudden brightness and peered about. Her eyes landed on the nightstand and the thick book on top of it. She walked over and lifted it. The book had a red leather cover; gold inlaid into the text, and was incredibly thick. Unable to figure out where Helga had gotten what was obviously an expensive book, Miriam blinked at its title. "Shakespearian Sonnets"  
  
Shrugging, she flipped it open to a random page, the sheets yellowed just slightly at the edges. Coughing to clear her throat, Miriam began to read the sonnet on the page, and then raised her brow at it. "Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage," She continued to read, stuttering over some words.  
  
  
  
The alarm beeped impetuously. Groaning, Helga rolled over and smacked the buttons, shutting it off. She had set it so she would wake early to double check her presentation and prepare to leave. The month had passed and today was the science fair.  
  
She yawned and stood, gathering her things to head to the shower and go through the typical morning ritual.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting her light blue hat on her head. She paused as she heard movement downstairs, but snorted and shook it off, figuring it was either Miriam or Olga. Bob was never up early.  
  
Stepping into her room, Helga dug out her report, fixing the pages inside their special folder. All three plants were in her room, in the corner. The plant that had been by Bob was small as well as was its leaves. The plant Olga had cared for was tall and healthy, but not very lush with foliage. However, the one Helga had cared for was tall, healthy, and boasted a thick layer of leaves. She had found that all quite symbolic, and she snorted as the thought came back again.  
  
Folding up the cardboard presentation board, she placed it and all her papers onto the bed. Stifling a yawn, she left her room to head down for breakfast. Since she had to take all the large, and weighty, plants and papers, Big Bob was going to give her a ride to school.  
  
She stopped in her tracks mid-stairway, watching with wide eyes as Big Bob placed a hat on his head and lifted his suitcase. Miriam stood next to him in a robe and holding a cup of coffee in her hand. She kissed him on the cheek. "Have fun, B."  
  
"Wait a minute!" Helga stormed down the rest of the stairs. "You're supposed to take me and my project to school!"  
  
"Sorry, Olga, I have to be in the office early. Take the bus or something."  
  
"But, Dad!"  
  
He simply shrugged her off and headed out the door, slamming it into her face as she lunged to follow. She snarled at the closed door, clenching her hands into fists. "And my name is HELGA!" She screamed in retort.  
  
Then she pulled back and composed herself. "I'll just ask Olga to take me," she stressed her sister's name as if the thought of being in the same car as her was unbearable. Which for Helga, it pretty much was.  
  
"I'm sorry, dear," Miriam said, sipping her coffee. "Olga left with some friends of hers last night and hasn't been back yet."  
  
"Did she leave her car?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't have the keys. You'll just have to take the bus." She turned to head into the kitchen.  
  
Helga held up her hands, her jaw drooping as she prepared a monologue to explain why she couldn't take the bus, which would be followed by a rant.  
  
Instead, she waved a hand at her mother's retreating back and trudged up the steps. "It's not worth it," she muttered.  
  
Helga reached her room and slammed the door behind her. She promptly sat onto her bed with a flop, some of her papers scattering onto the floor. She sighed and stared at the floorboards. Now what was she going to do? Her eyes drifted to her nightstand and the phone gleaming in the early morning light streaming through her window. She grinned and snapped her fingers, snatching the receiver and pushing the speed dial for Phoebe, knowing her parents would be taking their daughter to the fair.  
  
After Phoebe's line rang seven times, Helga gave up and tossed the phone onto the bed. "She must have already left."  
  
She fell back, hearing the rest of her papers and cardboard presentation slide to the floor. "Who would still be home right now and has access to a car.?"  
  
She picked the phone back up and stared at the buttons, thinking of whom she had on speed dial. "Rhonda would never give me a ride.wait!" She sat up quickly. "Harold has a car." She wrinkled her nose. "Do I really want to ask Harold for a favor?"  
  
  
  
Sid scribbled quickly on one paper, Stinky hastily gluing other sheets onto the cardboard while Harold rifled through his room. The other boys had stayed over Harold's to finish touching up the project, and had spent most of the night goofing off.  
  
"We're not going to make the bus!" Stinky cried as he snatched the latest sheet from Sid, putting glue on the paper and accidentally sticking it to his hand as he faced Harold.  
  
"I know, I know," Harold mumbled as he tossed some old clothes out of the way. He yanked a pair of jeans free from under a desk and rifled into its pockets. One of the drawers had fallen open and a photo slipped free, floating towards Stinky.  
  
The tall boy was busy fighting to unglue his fingers when he noticed the photograph and he leaned over in curiosity. Before he could see whom it was of, Harold snatched it up and shoved it into the drawer, slamming it shut, glaring at his friend.  
  
"Hey, we need at least one more test subject!" Sid informed them from the pile of papers on the bed.  
  
"What?" the other two chorused in shock and worry.  
  
Harold shook his head. "Maybe we can ask my mom?"  
  
"We don't have time!" Stinky finally managed to paste the previous sheet onto the cardboard, a small piece of the paper torn.  
  
Harold grinned and jingled the keys he'd rescued from the dirty jean pockets. "I'll drive us."  
  
"But Harold, you never drive."  
  
"Aw, that's just to.uh, save gas and stuff.yeah."  
  
Sid leaned over to peek out the window. "Uh, Harold?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your mom just left."  
  
"Awww!" He whined, plopping onto the floor. "Who are we going." He stopped as the phone rang. All three blinked, and then frantically searched for the phone amidst the disaster. Stinky found it underneath the bed and went to toss it to Harold, but it clung to his fingers.  
  
Harold frowned and tried to yank it away, only succeeding in bringing Stinky to his ear along with the phone. "Ow!"  
  
"Hello?" He blinked in surprise, "Helga? .Yeah." He paused to look at his keys, Stinky and Sid exchanged glances. "Yeah." Then a slow smile formed as the conversation progressed. "Sure I'll give you a ride.but ya gotta do something for me."  
  
  
  
"One hundred and seventy three.one hundred and seventy four." Helga sighed as she counted each lick of the GumPop, a sucker with a wad of gum in the center. "Explain this to me again?" She said from her position in the backseat, "One hundred and seventy five."  
  
Sid sat next to her, one arm wrapped around one of the plants as another was nestled in his lap. "Our project is, 'How Many Licks Does it Take to Get to the Center of a GumPop'?"  
  
Harold was driving. "I got the idea when I saw one of their commercials."  
  
"On account of they always ask that question." Stinky peered from the front seat, the third plant in his lap. All of Helga's papers were tied together over her knees, whereas the boys had thrown theirs haphazardly into the trunk.  
  
"Yeah!" Harold tacked on, "And the one guy always bites it instead of actually finding out."  
  
"One hundred and eighty three." Helga had continued while they talked. She paused, "Naturally you would think of something to do with food." She was their last test subject in return for her ride.  
  
"Leave it alone, Helga, or we'll kick you out right now, and your plants." Harold grunted as he swung the car around the corner. He was actually a pretty good driver, but Sid kept babbling that they'd be late.  
  
Helga sighed and rolled her eyes. "One hundred and eighty four.Okay, but why are you guys so late with a project if it's this simple? One hundred and eighty five."  
  
"Actually, it's not because we was procrastinatin' or nothin'. It's on account of we had a similar deal with Rhonda. We help her with her project, and she would be a test subject for us." Stinky said.  
  
"Yeah, we were helping her most of the month with some fashion thing." Sid grunted.  
  
She looked at them both, licking the GumPop again. "One hundred and eighty six. Okay, but why didn't you just ask other people and not bother with Rhonda?"  
  
Both Sid and Stinky turned to glare at Harold. "It was his idea."  
  
"I.I owed Rhonda a favor is all," he stated from the front.  
  
"What did she do for you? Go out on a date with you?" Helga laughed, Sid and Stinky even chuckling.  
  
"Yeah, right. Rhonda wouldn't give any of us the time of day!" Sid snickered.  
  
Harold snorted from the front, and then swerved the car ruthlessly around a corner and the other three occupants cried out.  
  
"Watch out for the bus!" Sid shouted and pointed.  
  
"One hundred and eighty seven."  
  
  
  
The students were gathered in the gym, ten minutes to homeroom. Some were still setting up the tables to hold their projects, some nit picking all their the papers and presentations, to make sure everything was perfect. Some, mostly those in the upper grades, were running around knocking things over.  
  
However, most of the sophomores who had come early were hovering around a single table. Phoebe stood in the center, proudly explaining her project. "Therefore, I believe I have explained why Jupiter's 'great red spot', the largest and longest lasting known storm, is as such."  
  
"Wow, Phoebe, you're going to win first place!" Lorenzo sighed, looking sadly at the plastic covered report in his fingers.  
  
Phoebe held up a hand to her listeners, waving modestly. "Oh, though I do have high confidence in my project, I believe every student here has just as many chances as I to win the first place ribbon."  
  
Sheena leaned over the group, staring in awe at the spinning bowl and at the swirls of colors that had yet to mix together. "I don't think any one else here has anything so impressive."  
  
"Gosh," Eugene sighed with awe.  
  
"Aw," Gerald pushed through, waving the others aside, "We all knew how well Phoebe here would do. Especially since Helga wasn't any part of it." He grinned as he reached Phoebe's side.  
  
Phoebe turned slightly from him. "Although I appreciate your vote of assurance, you know I don't like when you say things about Helga. I-"  
  
A loud crash broke whatever Phoebe was about to say and Sid, Stinky, Harold, and Helga came tumbling through the gym room doors with each of their reports, presentations, and Helga's plants.  
  
"You idiots!" Helga snapped, shoving Sid off of her back and jumping quickly to make sure nothing had happened to her project.  
  
"Sorry, Helga," Stinky groaned as he pulled himself up.  
  
Helga snatched the plants from each of them, setting them aside and yanking the GumPop out of her mouth. "Maybe I shouldn't even try to finish helping you morons."  
  
"Oh, come on Helga, you're almost there!" Harold cried, digging through the several loose sheets of paper and trying to stack them neatly.  
  
Helga sighed, picking up her presentation and report, thankful that she had tied it all together.  
  
Sid rifled into his backpack and pulled out a camera. After a thorough check to make sure it was alright, he snapped a picture of Helga. "For the report," he said with a grin, and then dashed off before the picture finished coming out of the camera.  
  
Sighing, Helga found herself an empty table and began to set it, Stinky still helping as Harold continued picking things up. Brainy appeared from nowhere, picking up a secondary plant. Phoebe came over, lifting the third and placing it onto the table next to Brainy and watching as Helga untied the papers. "Good morning, Helga."  
  
"Oh, hi Pheebs," she said, barely glancing up.  
  
"What's your project about?" Phoebe asked curiously, leaning in. Brainy lingered by the table, Stinky went off to help Harold and Sid set their table up.  
  
"Plants, conditions, how it affects them, etc. etc." Helga muttered, as she adjusted things. Stepping back, she licked the GumPop again. "Three hundred and eighty nine."  
  
Phoebe glanced at her oddly. "What are you doing that for?"  
  
"A favor. I help Harold and his peanut gallery with their project. In return, they transported mine. We'll just leave it at that."  
  
Phoebe nodded as Helga began walking between tables. "Leaving!"  
  
Brainy stayed by Helga's stand as the two friends walked away.  
  
There were several other projects, some studying acids, some dealing with biology, some with electricity, and so on. Most were similar; most were sloppy. A few, like Lorenzo's, had great presentations, but the project itself wasn't very interesting.something about rocket fuel.  
  
Helga and Phoebe reached Harold, Sid, and Stinky's table. Sid was hastily pasting on the picture of Helga.  
  
"Are you still counting?" He inquired in a panicked voice.  
  
She gave another lick. "Four hundred and four."  
  
"Oh man.how many minutes to homeroom?" Harold asked with worry.  
  
"Four!" Stinky was once again stuck to the presentation board.  
  
Helga continued as the three boys panicked, other students drifted from the room, chattering away. Finally, Helga noticed a different feel and she blinked, pulling the GumPop away. "Four hundred and twenty six, guys. It's official."  
  
"Mark it!" Harold cried.  
  
Stinky slipped out a permanent marker and noted the number under Helga's picture.  
  
After that, the five students quickly rushed to their respective homerooms before the bell rang.  
  
  
  
Mrs. Kaiote handed small paper booklets out to each student. "Next we will be studying how to create depth in pencil sketches using simple techniques such as cross-hatching, dots, etc." Helga grabbed her small, five-page booklet as soon as it hit the table, spinning it to face her. Robert grabbed his own from the center, Park took the last two and gave the extra to the last person at their table, Peapod Kid.  
  
Their art teacher tucked her dry erase pen for the marker board behind her ear as she reached the front of the room. She didn't have a chalkboard and never gave any chalk projects.she was allergic to it. "Please note the picture on the front page and how the artist uses straight lines to create shadows, making thicker lines and/or making the lines closer together to give the appearance of even darker shadows. Please take this period to read through the booklet and feel free to ask any questions.  
  
"Tomorrow I will be handing out sketching papers, so I would like all of you to take any extra time to think up some sort of animal you wish to draw and to use these techniques on." She raised one eyebrow at the class, adjusting her small square glasses. "Or do your homework, we're ahead of schedule anyway. Talk if you like, but please keep it at a low level." With that, she headed back to her desk to continue grading work from the previous assignment.  
  
Helga sighed heavily, flipping the first page. Park was already putting his away and pulling out paper to work on an English assignment.  
  
A crackle interrupted the light chatter that had begun, and their principal, Mr. Amudeku, came over the loud speaker. "All sophomores please report to the gymnasium to present your science projects and reports, as well as accept any awards you may have won. Congratulations to those that did in advance."  
  
Eleven students in Mrs. Kaiote's twenty three student class stood abruptly. They began whispering to each other as they filed out, knowing they didn't have to get any sort of special permission to go from the teacher. How the science fair worked was each grade had been separated. The freshman had been judged on during first and second period, sophomores were in third and fourth, juniors fifth and sixth, seniors seventh and eighth. Anyone who had to miss lunch was given special permission for an earlier or later lunch. There were first, second, and third place prizes for each grade, decided during the second half of each grade's "presentation".  
  
Mrs. Kaiote seemed to move like a ghost from her desk to the line, unseen and unheard before she yanked a boy from the line by the ear. "Mr. Bauer, I don't believe you are a sophomore. Am I correct?"  
  
The others giggled as he bowed his head. "Yes ma'am."  
  
She gave a soft smirk and pointed to his seat. "Sit."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
  
  
Helga gave a weary sigh as she plopped onto a bench in the bleachers next to Phoebe. "I think that went well."  
  
"I'm quite sure you impressed the judges, Helga," Phoebe was scribbling wildly in her notebooks, taking the moment to work on homework early.  
  
Helga snorted and leaned back, surprised when she felt her shoulder hit something. Blinking and tilting her head up, Brainy grinned down at her, wiggling his fingers as her shoulder pressed against his leg. Helga glared blankly for a moment, and then snarled, "That's it!" and jumped up.  
  
Brainy shrank as she towered over him. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she hauled him to the changing rooms and yanked a locker open. She blinked in momentary surprise to find Eugene in it. Brainy scrambled away before she could lock him in another, and Eugene began to babble a thanks for "rescuing him", but she closed it back up before he got out.  
  
In the meantime, Gerald sat next to Phoebe. "Hey."  
  
"Hello, Gerald," She paused in her work to smile at him.  
  
He flashed a grin. "Just finished my report. Did some smooth talking, while Park showed off the goods." He and Park had teamed up for their project. "Left those judges in awe. Never knew what hit them."  
  
Phoebe giggled, looking over the rest of the tables littering the gym floor. Gym, cancelled for the day's events, was in favor of study halls, much to the pleasure of those who took Phys. Ed. that day. Her eyes fell on Sid, Stinky, and Harold desperately explaining their project and tripping over themselves.  
  
  
  
An hour had passed before all the students' projects had been presented, and time was running short. All the sophomores were gathered together in the bleachers, murmuring to each other.  
  
One of the judges was their science teacher, Mrs. Sandler. The other two were either upper grade or lower grade teachers. Mrs. Sandler stepped forward, holding a sheet of paper with scribbles on it. "Due to lack of time, we'll just dive into the winners." The students quieted down, several turning to grin at Phoebe.  
  
One of the other teachers stepped forward. "We'll just start with first, then second, and then third." He said in a flat voice.  
  
Mrs. Sandler nodded, and returned to the group of students. "First place."  
  
"This is it, Phoebe!" Sheena said from behind Helga and Phoebe.  
  
The Japanese girl smiled politely, "Sheena, you know as well as I that everyone has the same chances."  
  
"Helga Pataki!" Mrs. Sandler suddenly announced and Phoebe's sentence dropped as everyone's eyes widened.  
  
"What?" came several voices.  
  
"Helga?" Phoebe squeaked.  
  
Helga sat forward, unfolding her arms from behind her head. "Me?"  
  
But Mrs. Sandler had already continued. "Second place, Phoebe Hyerdahl."  
  
"Second?" Phoebe squeaked a little higher pitched.  
  
"And third place, Sid, Harold, and Stinky.mostly for their creativity," the three boys cheered and whistled loudly. The rest of the class continued to murmur in surprise at the first two places. Helga and Phoebe pressed through the rest of their grade as they made their way down the bleachers, both with surprised expressions.  
  
The three boys were already hooting and waving their ribbon, slapping high fives and nudging each other. Phoebe took hers, watching with the same shocked expression as Helga received her first place ribbon.  
  
Phoebe shook herself and smiled, holding out her hand to shake Helga's. "I'm happy for you, Helga."  
  
Helga finally broke into a grin, vigorously shaking her best friend's hand. "Thanks Pheebs."  
  
"You deserve it."  
  
  
  
"I deserved first place! My project was highly developed and all aspects were analyzed.to the best of human capability. My project was much more scientific and by far more." Phoebe sighed in agitation, tossing a pillow onto her futon. Unable to find a word to finish her sentence with, she fell onto her futon and glared at the ceiling.  
  
Breaking her thoughts, the phone rang, and she picked it up with a sigh of resignation.  
  
"Hey, Pheebs."  
  
"Hi, Helga," she replied listlessly.  
  
Helga took no notice, but regaled Phoebe with a tale of yet another battle of wits she'd had with Olga. Phoebe let her talk, not even bothering to grunt at the appropriate places.  
  
Helga fell silent for a moment. "Hey, Pheebs, you OK?" she asked.  
  
"Of course, Helga, everything is fine," she said, a bit too brightly.  
  
"You sure?" her friend persisted.  
  
"Yes, Helga, I'm sure," Phoebe stated firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."  
  
With that, Phoebe hung up the phone abruptly. Helga stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, shrugged, and put it down.  
  
Phoebe paced her room, muttering to herself.  
  
"Who does she think she is, anyway?" she asked her lamp. She took a deep breath, calming herself and trying to shrug off her misgivings. "I can't begrudge my best friend this honor," she said. "I'll just have to try harder next time."  
  
She nodded to the lamp before changing into her pajamas and climbing into bed.  
  
As Phoebe's eyes drifted shut, a fog filled the room. She walked through the fog, right into their homeroom. Helga was sitting at her desk, on which an enormous trophy gleamed.  
  
"Hey, Pheebs," Helga's voice said. "I really thought you'd win this one. Better luck next time."  
  
Phoebe gave her a half-smile.  
  
The scene faded, and the two girls were seated in science class, working together on their lab assignment.  
  
"Hey, Pheebs, hand me that hydrogen peroxide, will ya?" Helga asked. Phoebe looked at the assorted beakers. They all looked the same to her.  
  
"Come on, Pheebs, snap out of it!" Helga growled at her as she reached past Phoebe and grabbed one of the beakers. Phoebe closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was sitting in English class.  
  
"What was Shakespeare saying about Hamlet's motivation, Phoebe?" asked Ms. Prongs. Phoebe's forehead grew in size, giving her a Cro-Magnon appearance. She blinked.  
  
"Helga?" the teacher asked.  
  
Helga launched into her analysis of, not only the character's motivation, but also theories on why Shakespeare attributed those points to his protagonist.  
  
"Don't you think so, Pheebs?" Helga asked, slapping her on the back. The girls were in math class.  
  
"I'd like to congratulate Helga Pataki on her concise proof of Fermat's Last Theorem," Ms. Onamous' voice resonated.  
  
Helga turned to face Phoebe, grinning broadly. Her grin grew into a feral snarl and she laughed. The whole class joined her in laughing, as Phoebe shrunk in size.  
  
She awoke with a scream.  
  
  
  
Phoebe sat in her Español class, Sra. Irene babbling at the front of the class. She put a hand to her forehead, trying desperately to pay attention.  
  
Helga's pencil was scribbling wildly in a notebook, her eyes half-lidded as a small smile graced her face. Phoebe often saw Helga writing in that same book and she was fairly sure what was in it, since they appeared to be in letter form and her face took an expression not oft seen.  
  
Yet, today, she could only side glance it with a suspicion that it was something else Helga was trying to beat her at. Trying to shake the silly notions her mind was feeding her, Phoebe rubbed her eyes and then trained them to the front.  
  
But the scribbling was distracting and her tired eyes continued to trail in Helga's direction.  
  
"Phoebe?" Sra. Irene said suddenly, causing Phoebe to jump.  
  
"Y-yes?" At Sra. Irene's look, Phoebe tried again, "¿Si?"  
  
"¿Cómo se dice 'prize' en español?"  
  
Phoebe opened her mouth to answer, but her mind drew a blank. Desperately, she searched in her intellect as Sra. Irene gave her an odd stare. "I.I."  
  
Noticing Helga not paying attention, she called on her instead. "Helga.?"  
  
Helga peered up from her notebook. "¿Si, Sra. Irene?"  
  
Sra. Irene pointed to the blackboard and asked her to finish the sentence portrayed there.  
  
Helga peered at the words for a moment, "She won first prize." Helga said in Spanish, and then went back to her notebook as if it was nothing.  
  
Phoebe gave a soft whimper, checking her forehead, and then buried her nose into her Español notes.  
  
  
  
It was the last period of the day and Helga, Harold, Stinky, Sid, Rhonda, Phoebe, and Gerald sat in a small group at the back of English class. Phoebe sat quietly by the window, her chin propped on her fists, weary from the entire day's transgressions. Gerald put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I.I'm fine," she replied softly, sitting up and sifting through her papers.  
  
Helga turned from paying attention to Iggy reading his essay at the front of the class. "Pheebs has been acting strange all day."  
  
"I think it's on account of she should have won first place." Stinky said, yawning.  
  
Helga glared and Stinky shrank back, Phoebe's face darkened slightly, but she pretended to smile. "No, the judges made their decision and I'm sure it was the correct one."  
  
"Are you sure that's not what's bothering you?"  
  
"I'm sure Helga."  
  
Harold had been ignoring the current conversation, hurrying to finish his essay before he was called to the front to read it. "I don't know what word to use!" He cried in exasperation.  
  
Phoebe snatched the paper from him, desperately trying to prove to herself nothing was wrong. "Let me see."  
  
After a minute of staring at the sentence in seemingly futility, and suggesting several words that wouldn't work, Helga leaned over to read the sentence. "What about 'adroitness'? It sort of means someone skillful with their hands."  
  
Harold snatched it back. "Works for me."  
  
Phoebe's hand shot up and Mrs. Prongs interrupted Iggy. "Yes, Phoebe?"  
  
"May I please go to the restroom?"  
  
Mrs. Prongs blinked and pulled the pass from her desk. "Sure, Phoebe." and then watched as she dashed from the room. The other students all stared at the open door a moment, and Iggy wet back to his essay.  
  
  
  
Phoebe dashed inside the restroom, the door banging shut behind her. After quickly checking to be sure no one else was in there, she spun to the mirror, her hands waving. "What is going on? Could the dream possibly be coming true?"  
  
She looked at her image, noticing the dark rings under her eyes and her mussed appearance. Sighing and fixing loose strands of hair, she sniffled quietly. "No, no. Though such things as ESP and the ability to predict future events has not been proved, or disproved, I highly doubt I would be susceptible to such mental capabilities."  
  
Phoebe grabbed some tissue and blew her nose. Tossing the used wad, she turned the water on and splashed herself in the face. "Get it together Phoebe. You're just unhappy you didn't win first place. Your intellect is not in danger here."  
  
Drying her face, she sighed. "This is all perhaps a simple psychosomatic occurrence." With that, she gave another try at straightening her hair and made her way back to class. The rest of english went by smoothly and Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang. Helga chattered to her on the way to Helga's locker, but they were stopped by Mrs. Qwilleran, their history teacher.  
  
"Helga, I've been meaning to speak with you!"  
  
Helga looked at her oddly while she dug through her locker. "What about?"  
  
"I'm happy to announce you got the best grade on our last paper of the entire class!"  
  
Helga raised an eyebrow and prepared to ask why she had to tell her that now, but was stopped by an outcry from Phoebe, who dashed madly down the halls, leaving the teacher and Helga to stare in confusion.  
  
  
  
Phoebe ran down the steps of Bartlett High, ignoring all of the students that were staring at her in her sudden outburst of emotion, and made her way down the street. As she left the school, the events of the past few days flooded her mind, causing her mind to reel. Over and over in her mind, despite trying to convince herself otherwise, she felt as if she were losing that which distinguished her.her "smarts." She felt as if she were losing herself to an arbitrary loss at the science fair, a loss dealt by her best friend, no less. And as these thoughts cluttered her mind and as she continued to blindly run down the street, passing her bus stop and rounding the corner, she was unable to convince herself of her self worth anymore. She lost all focus and composure and suddenly felt compelled to scream based on the events of that day.  
  
Before she had a chance to do so, however, she felt a strong impact and then found herself on the ground, looking up at the hazy sky. As she rubbed her head and waited for her better vision to return, she noticed the figure of Helga before her, doing the same and brushing herself off. Somewhat relieved yet now somewhat nervous about the unprompted confrontation, she stood first and collected herself.  
  
"Man, Pheebs, you oughtta watch where you're running. That was some impact there," Helga said, straightening her clothes and looking down at her shorter friend. "You okay?" she asked offhandedly. Although Phoebe nodded, Helga looked into here eyes and she saw that everything was indeed not. "Come on, Phoebe, now.are you sure?"  
  
Phoebe was finally able to collect herself enough to speak. "Sure, I'm fine Helga, really."  
  
"Well, then, why are you randomly running through the neighborhood like your pants are on fire," Helga wondered, narrowing her eyes at her friend.  
  
Phoebe turned her head from Helga and looked down at her own feet. "Helga, I'm absolutely positive that there is nothing amiss. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to walk in the direction of the bus stop," Phoebe stated coldly, beginning to sulk in the opposite direction of her running.  
  
Helga looked at Phoebe for a while before continuing the conversation. "Okay, Pheebs, suit yourself. But, if there is really anything wrong, you know that I'm here to listen," Helga said finally, joining her friend as they walked slowly back towards the school.  
  
There was a long moment of awkward silence before Phoebe was finally able to say something. And when Phoebe broke the silence, she shattered it. "Oh Helga, I can't take it anymore, I simply cannot! Ever since your project won in the science fair, so many aspects of my everyday routine have been disrupted for seemingly no apparent reason," Phoebe began, taking Helga by the hands and looking into her eyes, letting tears burst forth. "I've tried to act like everything is perfectly normal and that I am well, but I truly am not. I know it seems absurd, but my very performance in school and elsewhere has deteriorated due to your win, and I think it is more a psychological impact rather than an actual mental failure on my own part. The bottom line is, Helga, I believe I should have won. In fact, I always win. And my project idea was so good, and there was no reason that I shouldn't have excelled."  
  
"Hey Pheebs," Helga interrupted, though she had been listening.  
  
"And I made sure I covered every aspect even the most meticulous judge would have thought to survey."  
  
"Phoebe."  
  
"And I even threw in some additional research that I though would help my case, but did it, no! It must have been a sham, I tell you."  
  
"Phoebe!" Helga exclaimed, taking that instant to slap some sense into Phoebe. After the slap, Phoebe fell back to a brick wall on the block in which they were walking, and ended her rant about as suddenly as it began.  
  
"Oww, Helga, that hurt," Phoebe finally replied, rubbing her cheek gingerly where she had been slapped.  
  
Helga stood back and sighed, facing the street as she addressed her best friend. "Oh yeah. I bet it didn't hurt as much as what you just said to me," Helga said, turning back to Phoebe as she paused, truly shocked.  
  
Phoebe blinked and then shook her head. "I.hurt you? This doesn't sound like the Helga Pataki I know," she responded, chuckling slightly, as if trying to make light of the entire situation.  
  
"I'm serious, Pheebs. I mean, think about what you were just saying. You basically said that I didn't deserve to win the science fair," Helga replied on a more serious note, averting her eyes from her friend as she uttered the words.  
  
Phoebe, who realized what she said too late, gasped and put her hand to her mouth, and then tried to fix her words. "Well, Helga, I didn't mean.I mean.I said that."  
  
Helga shook her head and then glared back at Phoebe. "I know what you said, Phoebe. You said that you should have won.because you always win, and because of that, you deserved it. Tell me something, Pheebs, did you ever think that maybe someone else could win other than you. Scratch that, did you maybe think that anyone else could ever possibly be smarter than you in something?" Helga asked plaintively, looking directly at Phoebe and waiting for an answer.  
  
Phoebe stood on the wall and thought for a while, not removing her eyes from Helga. "Well, of course I don't expect to win everything.I just thought that, based on the competition."  
  
Helga again interrupted Phoebe. "Based on the competition, huh? You truly didn't consider me competition, did you, Phoebe?" Helga asked, stepping back from her friend. Phoebe, who knew that she had been cornered, averted her eyes and leaned against the brick wall and sighed. "I didn't think so. Tell me this, Phoebe, what role do I play in our relationship? Because, up until now, I thought I knew."  
  
Phoebe, now a little upset from the turn of events, began to speak in a tiny, high pitched voice. "Well, you know you've always been my best friend, Helga, you know that well," Phoebe was finally able to say.  
  
"Yeah, I do. I'm just wondering if I were also there because.maybe not intentionally, but in the back of your mind, you knew that I was always someone who you could outdo. If I were someone that would always be there to make you feel that much smarter, that much more talented.that much more knowledgeable," Helga revealed.  
  
"Oh, well, of course not Helga."  
  
"Whether or not you thought this, I'm letting you know that I'm not. Sure, I had some major slack off time way back when, maybe even not that long ago. But, you aren't the only one who's got brains, you know. I'm not the brains of this operation just because I rule with an iron fist most of the time.I've got smarts, too," Helga said slowly, before lowering her head and looking off into the distance. "And I guess it hurts me to think that you may have never thought this much of me, that maybe you so long ago dismissed me as some type of, bully freak, hopeless romantic, girly job with hidden lace underwear or something."  
  
Phoebe sighed heavily as all of this sunk in, and then she looked plaintively at Helga. "Helga, I.I'm sorry in advance. I'm sorry if I ever came off that way, and I'm sorry if I ever do it again, but.seriously, I don't think of you that way. I'm your best friend in more than one way, and I guess, speaking of the subconscious, we got along so handsomely in the past because of our common interests in learning. Although we don't think exactly the same, or perform the exact same way in class, we're both pretty knowledgeable, pretty intelligent for our age. You were always smart, Helga.it's just, well, I never thought to acknowledge it, so I guess that this is one of the former apologies," Phoebe stated, wringing her hands. "I'm glad you brought it to my attention.  
  
Helga waved her hand at Phoebe and smiled obscurely. "Ah, don't sweat it, Pheebs. We all have our days.or weeks, in your case," Helga chuckled as they began to walk in the direction of the bus stop.  
  
"Don't blow me off now, Helga, I'm just getting started," Phoebe responded, as she joined in Helga's quick strides. "You won that science fair, fair and square. I'm just so used to winning everything.I probably didn't put as much effort into mine as I could have.and even if you did, you still would have won. Your project was far superior," Phoebe admitted, shrugging off what had been the grand crisis of the past week.  
  
Helga shook her head and chuckled absently. "Ah, stop sucking up," she said jokingly at her friend, as they continued on their fast pace.  
  
Phoebe suddenly snapped her fingers as they walked down towards the end of the block. "I have an idea, Helga. We never really celebrated your victory. I think I owe you a triple fudge sundae from Slaucen's, my treat. What do you say?" Phoebe offered, smiling genuinely at Helga as they reached the corner.  
  
Helga raised an eyebrow and then smirked. "Now, that's the kind of sucking up that I like. Keep talking, Pheebs, keep talking."  
  
  
  
Written By: Old Betsy  
  
Edited By: The Five Avengers  
  
Directed By: Nicole K. and Chinyere  
  
Produced By: Nicole K.  
  
Based on characters created by Craig Bartlett  
  
Most characters are privately owned by such parties as Nickelodeon, Viacom, etc. and are used without permission, but not without respect. 


End file.
